


Mauvana

by ToothPasteCanyon (DannyFenton123)



Series: Transcendence AU in Space [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence (Gravity Falls), Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 21:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannyFenton123/pseuds/ToothPasteCanyon
Summary: Head in the clouds, and a body down in disappointing reality.





	1. Martha

                Don’t go to WEFIDS. They wrote that on travel brochures. They said that in the news. It was the first thing anyone would say when the star system was mentioned in conversation.

                “So what did we do?” Jka grumbled. “We went to WEFIDS.”

                Next to her, Ilki rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault. The calibrations were off.”

                “Yeah, your custom calibrations that you made were off. And now we’re stuck in a freaking _warzone_ because you think you’re smarter than the flight computer!”

                "Look, it just didn’t look right to me, okay?”

                “And smack bang in the middle of WEFIDS looked right to you?”

                “I-! I’m usually good at math, okay? And the flight computer is a little janky-“

                “How can it be janky? It’s an AI, not that old cabinet your mother keeps trying to push on us.”

                “Okay, Jka, fine! You’re right, and I won’t do it again!” She gripped the controls. “Let’s just focus on getting out of here, okay? We need more interstellar fuel.”

                “Hmph.” Jka crossed her arms. “I bet fuel prices around here are insane.”

                “I’ll pay for it.”

                “Oh, yes. Yes you will.”

                The two of them drifted forwards on what remained in their tanks. Every second they could hear the tap-tap-tap of little pieces of debris against the cockpit. Jka wondered what it was from; a second later, they passed the crumpled husk of a ship, a great hole shredded in its side.

                Her eyes widened, and she turned to Ilki. “Where are you going, exactly?”

                “Just to the battleship.” She pointed ahead at a great red ship. “Don’t worry, we’ll get out of here.”

                “What? I’m not worried.” She linked hands with Ilki. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

                “Oh, of course.”

                The two of them looked at each other, and burst into giggles.

                “No really though, this is creepy as hell.”

                “Yeah, it is.” Ilki made a face. “Sorry I got us into this mess.”

                “It’s fine, let’s just get out of here. Are we close enough to the battleship?”

                “Looks like it.”

                “Cool.” She picked up the communicator. “And hey, next time you mess with the coordinates, can you send us somewhere better than WEFIDS? The middle of a star, for example.”

                Ilki tried to contain her laughter as Jka spoke into the communicator.

                “Hello, this is United Life Spacecraft _Fantastica_ approaching you from the starboard. Requesting permission to dock.”

                Almost immediately, there was a response. “Registration.”

                Jka pressed a button. “Submitted.”

                They waited as the man on the other end checked their papers. After a shorter time than either of them felt was enough to check registration, the reply came in, short and snappy. “Permission denied.”

                Ilki blinked. “Wait, permission denied?”

                “Requesting reason?”

                “By decree of Excecutive Order 1959, all United Life military vessels are off limits to civilian crafts. Do not attempt to approach, or you will be neutralized.”

                “Wha- what?” Ilki took the communicator. “I’m sorry, but we’re kind of in trouble here. We don’t have enough fuel to leave the system!”

                “For information on evacuation, please contact the relief efforts on your current planet of residence.”

                “But we don’t live here!”

                “Excecutive Order 1959 forbids you to dock here. No exceptions.”

                Then the line cut out, leaving Jka and Ilki almost slackjawed with astonishment on the other end. Jka spoke first.

                “Well… the UL back home was certainly a bit more friendly than those bozos. What jerks, right? Right, Ilki?”

                Ilki put her face in her hands. “Oh, my stars. This is all my fault. What do we do?”

                “It’s fine, Ilki.” Jka took the controls and gently steered them away from the battleship. “We’ll find some other place to get fuel. We don’t need those guys.”

                “Where?”

                “Well…” she spotted a ship, small and tattered, floating out in space. Their engines were off but life signatures steadily pulsed on her screen. “How about these guys? Maybe they have some to spare.”

                Ilki looked up. “Who, them?”

                “Yeah! Wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

                The ship evidently seemed to notice their approach. Their impulse engines fired, quickly steering them so their cockpits were facing each other. A bit of an unusual position, Ilki thought. She frowned.

                “Hey, I don’t know about this.”

                “What’s wrong?”

                “Something seems… off. I don’t know. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

                She rolled her eyes. “Ilki, no offense, but the last time you went out on a feeling-“

                “I know, I know. We ended up here. But seriously, I don’t like this.”

                The interface beeped. “They’re hailing us.”

                “Okay? Are you… gonna answer?”

                “I thought you didn’t want me to answer.”

                “That wasn’t what I said, I’m just saying-“ Ilki stopped herself, and took a deep breath. “Look, we’re going in circles. Just do what you want.”

                “I’m not trying to dismiss you, Ilki. I was just pointing out-“

                “Just do what you want.”

                “Oh, okay then. Thanks for your input.” Jka shot her a glare as she picked up the communicator. “United Life Spacecraft _Fantastica_. Who are we speaking to?”

                The line crackled. A strange buzz in the background set Jka’s teeth on edge; it sounded like their communicator was on the blink. When the other ship spoke, their voice was distorted, and strangely… childlike.

                “That’s a nice name you got there! _Fantastica_. Wish I could say the same for the ship!”

                Jka raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

                “Hey, cool your jets. Just joking with you. So,” The line let out a whine as she continued. “What’s the not-so-fantastic _Fantastica_ doing all the way out here?”

                Ilki made a face. “How old is she?”

                “How old are you?”

                “ _Jka_!”

                “What?”

                “Why would you ask that?”

                “You asked me!”

                “I was thinking out loud!”

                A laugh came from the other ship. “You guys are silly. I’m nine.”

                “Nine?” Jka widened her eyes at Ilki. “You’re… very mature for your age!”

                “I’ve had to be.”

                “Where are your parents?”

                “I dunno. They went to fight in the war and they… never came back.”

                “Oh, you poor thing!”

                “It’s okay. I sell things now. Lots of things. Would you like to take a look?”

                “Oh… are you sure you’re okay?”

                “Yup! I make bank!”

                She suppressed a smile; despite the tragedy, that was a very funny thing to come out of a nine year old’s mouth. “Oh, okay. Well, we’re looking for something very specific. Do you have any interstellar fuel?”

                The answer came immediately. “Yes, we do! Come over and dock, I sell it cheap!”

                “That’s wonderful! I’ll just-”

                “Wait.” Ilki put a hand on her shoulder. “How much is she selling it for?”

                Jka muted the communicator. “Are you seriously gonna make me haggle with a nine year old? What is wrong with you?”

                “Well, I- nevermind. Do what you want.”

                “Are you guys docking or what?” The voice on the end of the line sounded a little strained. “You won’t find a better deal anywhere in WEFIDS!”

                “Don’t worry, we’re coming now.” She steered the ship forwards. “Where should I dock?”

                “Just a little closer,” Said the voice on the end of the line. “We’ll show you.”

                They pulsed forwards, closer to the ship.  It still hadn’t turned around.

                “A little closer…”

All of a sudden, a warning popped up on their interface. The other ship had activated it’s engines – full power. They were on a collision course.

“Uh?” Jka tapped the screen. “What’s going on? Hello?”

                “Hello!” Said the voice on the end of the line.

“Your engines activated.” She watched the ship start to pick up speed. She threw the thrusters in reverse, but the warning remained. “You gotta shut them off – we can’t move away in time!”

                The voice began to laugh, and old dread trickled down Jka’s spine. She looked over at Ilki, whose face was rapidly draining of colour. Ilki reached over and snatched the communicator.

                “This is not a joke! We’re both gonna die if you plow into us, so cut the bloody engines! Cut the-“

                With a loud boom, the ship collided with their cockpit, blocking the view entirely. Warnings flashed across the screen – collision detected, glass integrity compromised, hull damage sustained.

“What the- what the hell?” Ilki shouted. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you guys just got tricked! Haha! Another one down for the dread pirate Martha!”

                “What? Tricked? What the hell do you-“

                Then the line went dead.

                Jka reached over and linked hands with Ilki. In the smallest voice, she said, “How screwed are we?”

                “Probably a lot?”

                “Yeah, probably. I never knew nine year olds could be pirates.”

                “They make pretty good ones, apparently.”

                Jka nodded. Then: “I love you.”

                “I love you too. I’m sorry I got us into this mess.”

                “No, this is my fault. I should have listened to-“

_BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ_

                “What the-“ Ilki covered her ears at the terrible buzzing, and glanced at the interface. “Glass frature? What’s going on?”

                They looked up, and saw something shining in the middle of the cockpit. A circle, with fractures webbed around it, slowly stretching out.

                Jka suddenly remembered the ship with the hole in its side. “Oh my stars, Ilki. It’s a drill. They’re drilling.”

                “A drill?”

                “It’s a drill.”

                The red lights of so many warnings shone in Ilki’s wide eyes. She stared back, frozen. What were they going to do?

                What could they do?

 

* * *

 

                “Aaaaand- there we go!” Martha watched as the _Fantastica_ ’s glass shattered, sending a familiar shudder through their ship as the air rushed into space. She looked up at her father with a grin. “How’d I do?”

                He said nothing for a while, looking down at her with an impassive stare. Then he reached down and patted her back, and Martha beamed.

                "We need to strip the ship now." He said, and began to walk away. "Come on."

                And far away in the mindscape, Alcor thought to check in on the latest Mizar. She was happy, he found.

                No reason for him to interfere, then. He’d only mess that up.


	2. Mauvana

The night Martha died, a star was born in the UL Homeworlds. Alcor felt it, watched from afar as two loving souls held him in their arms, safe and secure.

He felt it, and he stayed far away. He had interfered enough.

Martha had… shaken him. He had known for so long that he was not human, but now he realized that it went beyond that; he did not belong amongst humans, so much had he changed. All he did was bring them down, mess them up, break them. He couldn’t trust himself around them, not anymore.

It was for the best he stay away from them, and let them play out their mortal lives, undisturbed by his dark shadow.

And Alcor sat alone in the Mindscape, sinking further and further into despair. He watched that star live, shine, fade away, and he watched another star flicker into existence, shine for a while, and then fade into the void. And another. And another. Hundreds of years passed like sand through an hourglass.

Still he watched, but never, never interfered.

* * *

 

Mauvana didn’t have a desk. She had a chair, but… come on. She knew there was a resource shortage, but a chair without a desk was like a ship without airlocks. They were part of a set, you know? One was kind of useless without the other.

So when she said an important document landed on her desk, she was speaking metaphorically. Her supervising officer, Chief of Media Rnefed Jargon, dropped a tablet on the floor and stabbed a finger at her.

“I want this on my desk by five.”

Jargon was speaking literally when he said that. He had a desk, a beautiful antique fuser steel with the UL insignia engraved into the front. It belonged to Jargon’s grandfather, 305th President of the UL… or so he said. She wouldn’t put it past Jargon to twist the truth a little to-

“Hey. Hey.” Jargon was snapping his fingers in her face. “Did you hear me? This is of utmost importance. Nothing else gets worked on until you finish this, understand?”

“Oh, uh, yes, sir.”

                “Hmph. Head in the clouds.” He turned on his heel. “Don’t be late!”

He turned, and headed out the door… which was also a metaphor. Or a lie. It was hard to tell these days. Regardless, she didn’t actually have a door. Jargon had a door. And a desk. Huh. Was that indicative of something, or was she just reading too far into it?

Mauvana shook her head. It was in the clouds again. Not helpful. She had work to put on a non-metaphorical desk by five.

She picked up the tablet. Old screen technology, cheap and disposable. She pressed it, and it lit up with words. Jargon’s orders, written (as always) in caps:

FLIM ABOUT THE DEFEAT OF EVIL MIZAR THE PIRATE TO BE SHOWED TO GENERAL AUDIENCES AS EXAMPLE OF UL GLORY

Oooh, a film! Mauvana usually did posters, so this was something new. And about a pirate, no less!

Beneath the orders was a database link. She tapped it, and it opened up to a page requesting clearance. What was her code again? She checked her papers. Oh, yeah. She really had to memorise that sometime.

She typed in her code, and the screen flashed green before fading to an article. The first thing that caught her eye was a photo; it was a mugshot, unsurprisingly. It was of a human woman, an older woman, judging by the grayish-brown tone of her hair. That wasn’t what caught her attention, though. What caught her attention was the woman’s expression.

It was of complete and utter defeat. Her eyes were dull and pointing towards the ground, her face was lined, and her shoulders were slumped. When Mauvana looked at it, she could feel a deep sadness, a lifetime of regrets come rushing up to meet her. And… strangely, she felt a sort of connection between them?

Though maybe that was just her Sight acting up again. Damn magic.

Mauvana shook her head clear, and began to read.

_Mizar (???-31749 ZD) was an infamous pirate active during the UL’s Great Conquest. Though no records exist of her birth, DNA study points to her being approximately seventy years old at the time of her death._

_Mizar was apprehended in 31737 ZD after making obscene signals to a passing UL battleship. Whilst in custody, officials linked her to numerous criminal investigations and charged her with piracy. She plead guilty, and was sentenced to death in 31740. Authorities placed her in Kaktuz Asteroid Penitentiary to await punishment._

That was probably when the photo was taken. Mauvana kept scrolling.

_After spending five years imprisoned, however, Mizar escaped through unknown means (see ‘31742 ZD Kaktuz Escape’ for further information). As a fugitive, she captured the ULSS Manatorunus through the use of tessercrystal signaling and attacked the space station JENEDA in the XCASIS System, leaving no survivors. UL officers that came to investigate the situation were ambushed and taken hostage. She then used her hostage to destroy the ULSS Discovery and the ULSS Avada by plunging them into JENEDA’s star._

She plunged battleships into stars? That was awesome! Horrible, but awesome.

_UL forces led by Vice Admiral Raz Azaranda ended Mizar’s rampage in the WEFIDS Nebula, and she was killed in a shootout on board the ULSS Titanan. Due to the extreme and historic lengths of Mizar’s crimes, her story was highly publicized and she became a celebrated figure of the UL’s enemies._

_Her motivations for carrying out the attack are unknown, but it is commonly accepted today that she had some relation to the myth of Alcor and Mizar. These magical ties weakened her moral character and allowed her to commit such heinous acts. It was only by the quick thinking of top UL officials that she was able to be stopped before she could cause any more damage._

And that was it. Nothing more to read. Just a quick summary. This person, a whole, real person who spent seventy years on this mortal plane, summed up in five neat paragraphs and a photo. It wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

And then she paused. Why? Why did she need to know? There was more than enough material to make a script from this. It was enough to make several scripts. And yet… what?

It was that photo, wasn’t it. Those eyes, that story she read when she looked into them, of a life lived long before Mizar ever ended up in Kaktuz Asteroid Penitentiary, beyond the five paragraphs. A hard life; the defeat, the disappointment, the darkness was written so plainly on her face in that mugshot, and yet… and yet she went on to triumph. To triumph over her enemies, even if that triumph was short lived.

She wanted to know that life. She stared at that mugshot, and she wanted to know more than five paragraphs.

                And what was the myth of Alcor and Mizar anyway? She tapped the link, and it loaded, and-

                Red screen.

                YOU DO NOT HAVE THE CLEARANCE TO VIEW THIS PAGE.

Panic. Mauvana jabbed the back button until she was safely back on her original note page, with Jargon’s orders written out. They were perfectly clear: she was to write about defeat of Mizar the pirate at the hands of the UL.

Perfectly clear to literally everyone else other than Mauvana, with her weird magic that made her see stories where she wasn’t supposed to see them. Her weird, stupid magic that could make her look at a photograph and wax lyrical about unseen lives and emotions and defeat and triumph. That made her head go up in the clouds, rather than down in reality, with her orders.

Jargon could follow orders. That was probably why he had a door, and a desk, whilst Mauvana was down here, down on the floor. So it was indicative of something. Huh.

She wiped her misty eyes. Huh.

 

* * *

 

Once Mauvana got started, the script basically wrote itself and she was finished hours before Jargon’s due date.  She took the liberty to sketch out some movie posters to go with it: a stylized rendition of Mizar’s mugshot, a battleship plunging into the sun, and a fleet of UL ships flying into a nebula.

Her back ached and her knees hurt from hunching over the floor for so long, but when she looked at her work, she smiled. It was pretty good, maybe some of the best works she’d done in a while.

She checked the time. It was almost five.

Time to put this on a desk.

Mauvana gathered up her papers and stood up. She came out of her office and went down a narrow, grey corridor, lined with other entrances. Mostly storage. Her office was probably supposed to be a storage room too.

It stored her, Mauvana thought. Were offices just storage rooms for people?

It was an interesting question, and it absorbed Mauvana so much that she almost walked right into the door at the end of the corridor. It was a big steel door with a chip scanner mounted on top.

Mauvana turned to the side, and let it scan her shoulder. After a moment, the door let out a _chunk_ as the locks slid open.

She stepped out into another hall. This one was wider. Cleaner. Lined with portraits, and cameras. She’d stop to look at them, but Jargon didn’t like her hanging around outside the door.

Jargon’s office was just around the corner. She hurried to it, and stopped at his door. It had a gold plaque on it, with his name and position.

                She didn’t have a plaque. Maybe she should make one, in case anyone needed to know where she was stored. ‘Mauvana Seep, intern and writer extraordinaire’

                No, no, she wouldn’t go that far. ‘Mauvana Seep, intern with modest skill in writing and drawing’. Yes, that was much better.

Where was she? Oh! Jargon!

She knocked on the door. After a couple of seconds, there was a gruff, “Come in.”

Mauvana actually really liked entering office of Rnefed Jargon. Unlike the cold, sterile halls and her little office she wasn’t allowed to decorate, his room was packed with so many little mementos and souvenirs of his life. She could feel the emotions radiating from them; That miniature version of his personal ship was sat at the forefront of his desk, just like the overwhelming pride and satisfaction that always captured her attention every time she walked in. That little bottle of dried star from the time he went sun sailing? Bathed in fear and excitement, with a tinge of annoyance when he remembered how the heatsuits chafed at his elbows and knees.

The picture of his family hadn’t reappeared yet, Mauvana noticed. She made a face as she remembered the stress, and the sadness, and the love, all mixed into an angry, confused turmoil of emotion and thoughts; why didn’t she understand that he _had_ to work late now! That was what came with getting into the inner circle! He was finally moving up in life! Why wasn’t she proud of him? Didn’t she get it? Didn’t she-

“Mauvana! _Mauvana_!”

Mauvana blinked, and she was in the office again. Jargon was glaring at her, his entire face a deep, beet red.

“Oh, sorry sir! Here is the script, as you requested.” She offered the papers to him, and he snatched them out of her hands. “Again, I’m so sorry.”

“You should be.” He straightened the pride ship on his desk, and sat back in his chair. “Honestly, every time you come in here, I have to do some song and dance just to get your attention! What’s the matter with you?”

Mauvana briefly considered explaining the intricacies of his marital situation, but he carried on before she could get a word out.

                “Whatever it is, you need to work on it. Get your head out of the clouds, and do it fast, because when I get promoted, I’m sure the space waste you’ll be answering to won’t have half the patience for it! He could throw you back out onto the streets if he felt so inclined!”

“I’m sure he could, sir, if he was strong enough.”

“That’s right! He- wait, strong enough?”

“I mean, it’s not easy lifting people up and throwing them. I know I'm light, but what if he has weak arms? Then he’ll be in a right pickle.”

Mauvana once read that phrase in an old dictionary. She tried to use it as often as possible, in hopes that it would come back into common usage.

“Wha-? Why is that… Huh?” He stared at her for a long moment. Then he sighed. “You are something else, kid. Look, just try and be less… less you, okay? Just try.”

“How do I do that?”

He swiveled his chair back to his monitor. “I dunno, but I figured it out, so you can too. Now go. I’ll bring your ration down in an hour or so.”

Mauvana blinked. “What about my script? Are you gonna read it?”

“I’m busy. It’s finished, right?”

“Of course, sir. And I drew-“

“Then I don’t care. Go.”

Mauvana nodded. “Okay. I’ll go. And I’ll work on being myself less, even if that sounds kind of confusing-“

“Go!”

She backed away, and took one last look around his lovely office before she left.


	3. Mauvana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for The Signal.

Back at her office, Mauvana was staring at the tablet, staring at Mizar’s mugshot and the five paragraphs that accompanied it. In about an hour, Jargon was going to come down here and take it off her hands, and it’d be gone forever.

She knew it wasn’t allowed, but she kind of wanted to keep it. The stories still called out to her, even louder than before she’d written the script. She wasn’t done with Mizar.

Or maybe Mizar wasn’t done with her.

Mauvana gripped the tablet a little tighter. The thought that she wasn’t always in control of her actions… sometimes she worried about that. When her head was in the clouds, when she was deep in thought, when there was work to be done and she stood idle… it was like there were two people in her head. There was the normal person, who wanted to do her work, wanted to please Jargon, wanted to fit in… and then there was the other one. The one that spat out random thoughts, told her how the objects were feeling, and broke rules. It was probably the magic, but sometimes it felt like she had a pirate in her brain, hijacking her life.

Jargon was right. She was weird, and she should strive to not be herself as much as possible.

Mauvana set the tablet aside. It called out to her, but she ignored it. She took out a piece of paper, and began to doodle little patterns on it.

She kept doodling until she heard the sound of a door opening from out in the hallway. A few moments later, Jargon strode into her office with a ration packet and a general sense of irritation. He glared down at her.

“The tablet. Do you have it?”

“Yes, sir!”

A moment passed, and the irritation intensified. “Do you want to give it to me, or are you going to make me bend down and get it myself?”

Mauvana picked it up, hesitated, and offered it to him.

He snatched it away from her and dropped the packet at her feet. “Here you go. I’ll have an assignment for you in the morning.”

And then he left, taking the tablet with him, never to be seen again. Mauvana sighed; she couldn’t help but feel like that was a mistake. That something was wrong. She should have done something, or…

No. It was fine. Everything was fine, and it was probably for the best that she’d given it away. If she tried to keep it, it’d probably have put her in a right pickle.

But something was _wrong_ -

Well, it was gone now, and she wasn’t getting it back, so shut up. And you know what? She was tired, so she should go to bed and stop thinking about it.

She glanced at the ration packet, and set it aside. She wasn’t hungry.

Mauvana lay down on all her papers, shut her eyes, and willed her mind to come out of the clouds and be still. Her back hurt. Papers weren’t very comfortable.

Maybe a desk would be more comfortable. Though she couldn’t imagine how Jargon slept on his, seeing that it was filled with all his stuff. Maybe he took it off. Or maybe he put his feet up and leaned back on his comfy chair. Yeah, or maybe…

Mauvana’s mind stayed in the clouds all night.

 

Huh. This was highly unusual.

Mauvana stared at the clock, munching dried rations from her packet. Jargon was late for his morning assignment.

She’d known Jargon for… how long had she known him? A while, it felt like. Anyway, she’d known Jargon for a long time, and if there was one thing she knew about him, it was that he was punctual. Every morning at six, she’d hear the hall door open and see Jargon come into her room, hand her a tablet and a ration, and leave. Every day at six and every night at eight he would visit – sometimes more in between – and that was her life.

But today, that wasn’t her life. Because it was six o’five now, and Jargon wasn’t here.

Mauvana was grateful she saved her ration.

What should she do? Go to his office, or wait here? He probably wouldn’t like her going to his office; he didn’t like her going out into the hall. She could wait, but she was wasting time. Jargon didn’t like her wasting time.

She’d already completed all outstanding assignments though. She was waiting on him to give out more. So…

So?

So.

Mauvana just couldn’t figure out what to do. But she looked up at the clock and it read six o’seven now. Still no Jargon.

                It seemed like she was waiting. Mauvana decided to start sketching, just so he’d see her doing something when he walked in the door.

A ship. A figure with a blaster. Fodies on the floor.

After a few minutes, she realized it was Mizar that she was drawing, in some kind of shootout. She vaguely remembered a shootout from the article.

Six ten. She kept drawing.

Mauvana had finished sketching the teleporter room. She glanced up. Six fifteen.

Jargon sure was late. She hoped she was doing the right thing.

Six twenty. She drew uniforms on the bodies lying on the floor. A fire axe lay near one in the corner.

Six thirty. Mauvana shaded in Mizar’s grey hair, and the shawl around her shoulders. She wished she had some brown, but they didn’t make pencils like that.

Seven o’clock. She finished Mizar as she kneeled behind a panel, clutching her shoulder. Blaster fire rained overhead no matter what she did, and she was going to die, and Jargon still hadn’t arrived to give her the morning assignment.

Her stomach rumbled. She set the paper on her lap, and stared at the clock.

“Jargon,” Mauvana spoke, if only to hear a voice. “Where are you?”

Nobody answered her. She paused, and then stuck her chin out.

“I’m here, Mauvana,” She said in the most authoritative voice she could muster. “Everything is alright. Your morning assignment is to draw a picture of Mizar. Here’s the tablet.”

“Oh, what do you know? I already drew one, sir!”  
                “That’s excellent. Well done. Because of your efforts, I’m getting- promoted!” Mauvana shot up. “He must have gotten promoted! That makes so much sense! Aww, I’ll miss you though.”

“I’ll miss you too, Mauvana.”

She stood up. If Jargon got promoted, what should she do now? Maybe his replacement didn’t know about the schedule yet; she should go and introduce herself. And ask for a ration.

Mauvana passed down the hall like she had done so many times. She opened the door, and she walked down the wall of portraits, like she had done so many times.

Still, it felt weird. There was a pit in her stomach that slowed her step.

Something was _wrong_.

She reached Jargon’s door, and found his plaque had been removed. There was no replacement.

 _Something was wrong_.

It was fine. It was just the pirate, and the pirate had to shut up, because she can’t be weird to Jargon’s replacement. He was probably strong and impatient enough to throw her back out onto the street.

 _Stop_.

She raised her hand to knock. Her knuckles rapped against the metal three times.

Silence. And then, the door opened by itself.

 _Something is wrong something is wrong something is wrong_ -

“Who is it?” A woman poked her head out of the door, and looked down. She glared at Mauvana in a way that reminded her very much of Jargon. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Mauvana Seep.”

“Okay… And what are you doing here, Miss Seep?”

“Well, Jargon – my boss – didn’t show up to give me my morning assignment today, and so I figured he got promoted, so I came to introduce myself!” She stuck her hand out at the woman, whose glare had not lessened after hearing her helpful explanation. “I’m Mauvana Seep, your intern with modest skill in writing and drawing. What’s your name?”

“Go to hell.”

Then the woman slammed the door in her face. Mauvana blinked several times. What happened? She thought she’d nailed that intro.

Was… was she thrown out now? The woman hadn’t really thrown her out, but she did tell her to go to hell, which definitely wasn’t a morning assignment.

But as she stood there, thinking, the door flung open, narrowly missing her face.

“Wait-!” The woman noticed her. “Oh, you’re still standing here.”

“Was I supposed to move?”

She ignored the question. “You said you write and draw for my father?”

“You’re Jargon’s daughter? Isn’t that nepotism?”

“I’m not his replacement! Is that your job or not?”

Mauvana hesitated, and then nodded. The woman opened the door a little wider.

“Maybe you should come in.”

Mauvana stepped inside. The first thing she noticed was Jargon’s desk – it was gone. His pride ship lay crushed on the floor. The bottle of dried sun had fallen and smashed, spilling ashes over his carpet.

 _Something is wrong_.

She stared at the lady as she sat down on Jargon’s old chair. “So if you’re not Jargon’s replacement, who is?”

“Hopefully, no one.” She pressed behind her ear, and screens popped up in front of her. “What’s your name again? Moana Street?”

“Mauvana Seep.”

The screens shuffled. She frowned. “Mauvana Seep… so you’re my father’s intern?”

“Yes?”

“What do you do, exactly?”

“Usually posters. I wrote up a script recently, though. That was fun.”

“You do all the posters and scripts?”

“Yeah! Jargon says he doesn’t like doing them because he’s busy.” She smiled. “He said my work does better at meetings, so I should do all the assignments.”

“I see.” She sat back in her chair. “How did you get the job?”

“Oh, there was a writing competition!” Mauvana nodded. “Yeah, I remember that. And I sent my writing in, and I won, so I got to work here. I like it.”

“Where did you live before you came here, Mauvana?”

“Before I came here?”

“Yes. What was your address?”

Mauvana stared at her blankly.

“Come on, this isn’t a difficult question! Where did you live?”

“I… don’t know? It was in a place with… lots of people. Lots of people, with lots of stories. It was hard to concentrate.” She thought back. “There was a café… with screens. I went there to write. That’s where I won the competition. I wrote about a sad man who told really funny jokes. He used to sit next to me. We were-”

“Stop. I don’t care.” The woman raised an eyebrow. “So where are you living now, Mauvana?”

“Here.”

She blinked. “Here?”

“Well, not here here, but down the hall. In my office.”

“You live in this building.”

“Yes?” Mauvana raised an eyebrow. “Why? What’s-“

“No questions.” The woman sighed and brought her hands up to her forehead. The screens disappeared. “Oh my god, dad… why are you like this?”

Mauvana watched as she kneaded her brows. After a long moment, the woman straightened, and looked back at her. She was… angry? Frustrated. Not at her, though.

“Okay, okay, okay… you. When you took the internship, how long were you told it was supposed to last?”

“I… don’t know. Wait, is it today?”

“No it’s not. It was five years ago.” The woman brought up the screens again, and the frustration flared. “You were supposed to spend six months, but for whatever _fucking_ reason, my dad decides to keep some street child on the magic registry in – what is that, the storage closet?! Oh, my stars. Why. Why are you like this?”

“Me?”

“Shut up.”

“Where’s Jargon? Is he coming-”

“Just shut up!” About ten new screens popped up in front of the woman. She shuffled through them at a furious pace. “Okay, okay, okay, this is fine. I can spin this, I can spin this.”

“Spin what? What’s going on?”

“ _Shut_ -!” The woman caught herself at the last second. She turned off the screens and leaned forwards. “Okay, fine. You want to know where Jargon is?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ma’am.”

“Where’s Ma’am?”

“No, it’s- nevermind. At the moment, Jargon is in custody.”

“Oh. Where’s custody?”

The woman’s eyebrows drooped. “You’re not very smart, are you.”

“Um…”

“Look, people came and put your boss in prison. I’m here to get your boss out of prison, understand?”

“Jargon’s in prison?” Mauvana gazed up at Jargon’s daughter. She put a hand on the woman’s knee. “I’m so sorry.”

Jargon’s daughter shook her off. “What? Don’t be. I’d let him rot in prison, but if he gets done for treason, I’m never getting a job in government again.”

Mauvana didn’t quite know what to say to that. The woman continued.

“Anyway, do you know what he was arrested for, Mauvana?”

“No. What happened?”

“He was arrested for creating treasonous imagery with intent to display to the public.” A smile crept up her face. “But Jargon doesn’t exactly ‘create’ anything, does he? As you said, he’s _very_ busy.”

There was something strange about her smile, something that set Mauvana on edge. That feeling was coming back, telling her _something was wrong something was wrong something was wrong_.

 _She means harm_. Mauvana took a step back. “Uh…”

She pointed at Mauvana’s hand. “What’s that paper you’ve got there? Some kind of drawing?”

_She means harm. Run._

“Mauvana?”

_Run!_

Mauvana started back, grasped for the door handle.

“Where are you going?”

She flung it open. Grasping her drawing to her chest, Mauvana darted down the hall, the call of, “Wait!” fading behind her.

The hall was long, straight, lined with portraits and doors. It branched off into two corridors, and she stopped.

Where was she going? Where was the way out? She didn’t know.

This was stupid. She shouldn’t have run off. That woman wanted to help Jargon; maybe she should have-

 _Pain_. Mauvana gasped out loud and gripped her shoulder, from which a burning, twisting agony suddenly arose. Her fingers clenched – not of her own accord – and she crumpled the paper in her hands.

Above her, an alarm began to sound, high-pitched and earsplittingly loud. What was going on? Why was there an alarm?

The chilling realization came to her: she was the reason.

She wasn’t supposed to be in the halls. With some effort, Mauvana turned and ran back the other way. Every jolt brought fresh pain to her shoulder, and she gripped it tightly.

Jargon’s door was still closed. Mauvana gave it a wide berth and continued down the corridor, back to her office. The steel door loomed in front of her, promising safety, security, normalcy…

She extracted her hand from her shoulder and showed it to chip reader. After a few moments, it beeped. There was no _chunk_ sound.

She pushed it. It didn’t open.

“Oh… _come on!_ ” Mauvana kicked it. When it didn’t budge, she banged on the metal with both of her fists. “Let me in! Please, just let me in! Just let me go back. I want to go back! Just let me go back…”

She pressed her forehead to the metal, feeling the cool, smooth, hard surface. It was loud, and she was in so much pain… why didn’t she just wait for Jargon? None of this would have happened. And now she was stuck outside here, and she didn’t know what was going to happen. The quiet life she’d lived so happily was evaporating before her eyes, and now it was loud, far too loud and far, far too uncertain.

She just wanted her morning assignment. She just wanted her stupid morning assignment!

The metal was cold, but Mauvana felt very hot all of a sudden. Before she knew it, she was falling forwards, the sturdy metal disappearing and leaving her on the floor. She opened her eyes. She sat up.

She was in her hallway. The door? The door…

The door had a Mauvana-sized hole in it, the metal warped and steaming at the edges. Molten metal dripped on the ground, and she could feel it on her, too. On her hands.

                She lifted them up, watched silver droplets run off her palms. They felt so, so hot. She reached down and touched her drawing, watched it burst into flames around her finger, watched the fire consume Mizar, the soldiers, everything, all to ash.

                How did she do that?

 _Magic_.

“Over here!” Voices. Footsteps. Mauvana scrambled to her feet, and ran to her office. It was filled with so many papers, pens… nothing to help her. And she knew she needed help.

“What the hell happened to the door?”

 _They mean harm_.

Mauvana spotted her chair in the corner of the room. A swivel chair with a big back.

“Everybody fan out! Nobody leaves this corridor until we find the intruder!”

She jumped onto the chair and lay low, holding her breath. Her hands burned hotter than ever; she kept them clasped together.

And she watched as a shadow appeared in her doorway. Grey boots inched closer, one step at a time.

A voice. “I can see you.”

Mauvana hunched up tighter. The chair moved a little, and she squeaked.

The boots came closer. “Come out with your hands laced behind your back! Now!”

She sat there, frozen.

 _Run_.

She couldn’t run. She couldn’t do anything.

“Don’t make me force you.” A gloved hand appeared above the chair, and swiveled it around. A man’s face, glaring down at her. “Do as I say!”

Mauvana stared up at him. Then, quick as a flash, she reached up and grabbed his face.

 _Pain. So much pain. Not her pain_. The man began to scream, and she recoiled. No, no, no, what had she done?

“What the hell was that? What did she do?”

“It’s magic! Open fire!”

Blaster shots rained overhead, and Mauvana ducked down, clutched her shoulder. The man was still screaming, and the alarm was still blaring, and she couldn’t run. Pain. So much pain. In her shoulder. In her stomach. On her hands. From the man. And it was dulling, it was fading... she was going to die, and Jargon wasn’t here, and she didn’t have a morning assignment…

And somewhere, far away… somebody was watching.

 

* * *

 

Alcor was watching. He stood frozen as he watched his star flicker, her life slipping away – not like sand through an hourglass, but like a candle left out in a storm, fighting to keep burning but fading nonetheless.

She was young. So young.

“Excuse me?” Snapping fingers brought him out of the vision. He blinked several times, and remembered he was in the Mystery Shack, holding a bobblehead, hand poised above the authentic 21st century scanner.

The customer in front of him crossed his arms. “Are you going to scan that or not? I don’t have all day.”

On another day, Alcor might have incinerated the man for talking in such a way to the Dreambender – distantly, he felt the demonic anger rising in him. But he felt the candle flicker again, and he dropped the bobblehead.

“I’m going on break.”

He stumbled past the line of customers, into the employee break room. Then, he dissolved into the Mindscape. There it was quiet, and there he could focus.

Mizar was dying again. Every time, it killed him a little inside. Maybe he could help? Maybe he could still save her? If he could teleport her-

                No. He would never interfere again. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much he wanted to… think of Martha.

                He thought of Martha, and he watched the candle burn. It was still weak, still flickering, but the wind had stopped. She wasn’t dying anymore – she was in an ambulance, she was being teleported to a hospital.

                She wasn’t going to die. She was going to be okay, thank god.

Alcor took a deep breath.

                She was going to be okay… without his help.

                A tug. Alcor recognised the gentle summons of a friend. He considered not answering it, staying here in the Mindscape… but no. He… he didn’t want to be alone.

                Alcor answered it. He found himself in the Shack’s attic, two empty beds against either wall, and the friend, Matthew, in the middle.

                “I think I’m a wuss,” Matthew said, a grin playing on his face. “You gave me your summons card and you told me, ‘prick your finger if you ever need my help’ and I was like, alright, sounds fair. Only I really had to psyche myself up for that. Blood and me… well, there’s a reason I never became a surgeon, you know?” He looked at Alcor, his smile fading. “So that’s… nevermind. Anyway, I’m just checking up. Are you alright?”

                Alcor stared at Matthew… and he didn’t quite know what to say. What could he say? How could he possibly explain what was on his mind to a mere human?

                But deep inside, another voice reminded him that he’d done it before. A long time ago, when the Earth still lived, when the people on it knew his name, when some would even go so far as to call him a _friend_ …

                He stared at Matthew, and broke into a laugh. “I don’t know! Are you alright?”

                “I’m fine.”

                “Are you sure? How’s your finger? How’s your life? How’s your mother? Aren’t you _glad_ you met me?”

                Matthew raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going with this?”

                “I don’t know. Where am I going? What am I leaving behind?” Still laughing, Alcor walked over to the pink bed and sat himself down. “Did I leave them better or worse? Should I have even reached out at all? I don’t know! I don’t know… anymore.”

                He looked down at his hands, tipped with sharpened claws, and he sighed. “I just don’t know anymore.”

                For a moment, there was silence. Then Alcor felt the bed shift as a friend sat down beside him. Matthew said nothing.

                “I’m sorry.” Alcor said.

                “For what?”

                “For… I don’t know.” He looked down. “It’s been… nice, being around people again. And talking to you; I haven’t had someone just to talk to in a while, like a friend. And I know it’s not easy, having me around, and I know, in a lot of ways, I make your life worse-“

                “How?”

                Alcor jerked his head up. “How? What, you want a list or something?” Look, I’m not a great person – I know I’m not a great person – and… a long time ago, I promised someone I wouldn’t interfere with people anymore. But… here I am, interfering with you. I… I guess I couldn’t stand the isolation anymore. I don’t know. I don’t know.”

                He almost felt like he was talking to himself. It surprised him when another voice joined in.

                “You know, I’m glad you’re here.”

                “Why?”

                “Why? Well, I guess I’ve enjoyed I’ve enjoyed talking to you too - getting to know you. You’re not quite what I expected.”

                “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

                “I mean, I thought you were going to be some big, scary demon-“

                “And I am.” His expression darkened. “Don’t ever forget what I am.”

                “…Okay. But you’re not just a demon, you know? I didn’t expect a demon to have a lot of interesting stories, or work at the gift shop or, care about Gravity Falls – or anything at all, for that matter.” He let out a little laugh. “Said nothing in the books about what a weird sense of humor you have.”

                Alcor raised his eyebrows at that. “Look who’s talking.”

                “Look who’s talking? Hey, I may be weird, but which one of us watches a show about a duck that solves crimes?”

                “It’s good! And you said you wanted to know more about ‘21st century entertainment’, which, by the way, you can just call TV.”

                Matthew chuckled. “I suppose I did ask for it. But you see? You’re not making my life worse by hanging around Gravity Falls. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. And if you count me among your friends, then, well, that’s not a bad list to be on, is it?”

                Alcor stared at Matthew. “You really mean that?”

                “Every word.”

                “Wow…” He hesitated. “I’m going to be really sad when you die.”

                “Uhhh… thanks, buddy. I’m sure I’ll be sad too.”

                “Is that a weird thing to say? You’re looking at me like that’s a weird thing to say, but it’s true! And it’s only a few years off, and-“

                Matthew put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want a hug? I kind of want a long, silent hug right now.”


	4. Mauvana

                Mauvana lay in a dream. All around her were sounds, and if she cracked her eyes open, she’d see sights. Blurry. Fuzzy. White.

                Her eyes grew heavy, and she closed them again. Maybe she slept. It was hard to tell.

                Time passed. She opened her eyes again. A light was in her face, and she squinted them closed. Everything was fuzzy, and tingles ran down her shoulder.

                Time passed. Mauvana opened her eyes. A figure sat just outside of her view.

                _She means harm_.

                There was a vague panic, somewhere. But it was all so distant… Mauvana closed her eyes.

                Time passed. Time passed, and slowly, everything began to sharpen. The tingling down her shoulder turned to an ache, and she opened her eyes.

                And suddenly the sounds were coughs, and the sights were that of some big, white room. The light was in her face again, so she looked away.

                She saw a hand. Her hand? Her hand. It was gloved and shackled to the railing of… her bed? She tried pulling it, but her hand only twitched.

                That distant panic again. This probably wasn’t good.

                Mauvana looked for her other arm, and saw it covered in a clear rubbery cast hooked up with wires. It looked very red. Her hand… wasn’t on it.

                Another ache-tingle rose up from her shoulder on that side. This probably wasn’t good either.

                Mauvana closed her eyes again. She tried to sleep, but the fuzziness was fading fast, and the pain was growing, sharpening until she found herself wincing with every breath. The dream she had been dipping in and out of was drifting out of reach, and now her eyes were heavy, but she would not sleep. She could not sleep. Pain was constant now, stabbing and twisting through her shoulder and her stomach.

                And when she finally gave up and opened her eyes, she saw something unpleasant. Someone unpleasant.

                _She means harm_.

                “You’re awake.”

                Mauvana turned her head towards the voice. The dark figure in her periphery morphed into something altogether more familiar – and altogether more menacing.

                Jargon’s daughter didn’t look away from her screens as she spoke. “I see the neurodampeners are wearing off. How are you feeling, Mauvana?”

                Mauvana closed her eyes. She was so tired, and she just wanted this woman to go away. Please…

                “Well, you look terrible. Now, why’d you run away? If you’d just stayed put, I wouldn’t have had to call the guards on you, and none of this would have happened. You’ve made everything so much more difficult, and for what? One last moment of freedom? A final little run around before they put you away?”

                Mauvana cringed as she breathed in.  It was like all the strength had left her, and every breath was an effort.

                “You’re lucky I need you alive.” There was the sound of a chair moving, like the woman was standing up. “Enjoy the hospital stay. You’ll dream about this bed in prison.”

                Footsteps, getting fainter until Mauvana could hear them no more. The woman was gone, and she was still here.

                _You’ll dream about this bed in prison_.

                She wished she could dream right now, let her mind wander off in search of stories. But she couldn’t, because she was here. And it hurt every time she breathed in, and it hurt every time she breathed out, and there was nothing, nothing she could do about it.

                Mauvana cried. And that hurt, too.

 

* * *

 

                Time passed. Mauvana found she could move her head a little more. She looked up, and noticed others in the room. Other patients, sitting on beds, coughing, their little worlds filled with _pain_ and _panic_ and _I’m going to die here please don’t let me die here_ -

                She put her head back down on her pillow. Too many people. Too many emotions. She didn’t have the energy for it. She lay there, and _time passed_.

Mauvana heard the sound of a door opening. She feared it was the woman again, but there were no footsteps. She opened her eyes and watched a bed wheel itself into the room. It parked next to her, and a light flashed green.

                The light was piercing, and she turned her head away. What made her turn back, however, was the voice.

                “Hey, shackle buddies!” The woman on the bed smiled at her and weakly rattled her manacles. A little surprised, Mauvana copied her. “Man, you look fu-fucked-“ She started coughing violently for a few seconds, and then continued in a hoarse voice. “-fucked up. What happened to you?”

                Mauvana stared at the woman. There was blood on her lips.

                “Hello?” The woman wiped her face with the back of her arm and peered at something behind Mauvana’s head. “What’s your name… Mauvana? Huh. MagChip damaged? What’s that supposed to mean?”

                There wasn’t any malice to this woman’s questions, only a genuine curiosity. And…boredom. Yes, there was a lot of boredom in her life, Mauvana felt. That was sad.

                Mauvana opened her mouth. She might have said, “Hello” but all that came out was a strangled croak.

The woman laughed, and she frowned. Then that laugh turned into a coughing fit, and she felt a tiny bit better.

                “C-can’t talk, huh?” She cleared her throat, and extended a hand as far as the shackles would let her. “That’s okay. I’m Yly. Don’t look at the chart behind me, they spelled it wrong.”

                Mauvana reached over to shake, and found their chains didn’t quite extend that far. Yly grinned.

                “Well, shit. We’ll just pretend we shook hands, huh?”

                “Hey!” A guard leaned into the room. “What are you doing?”

                Yly sat up. “What are _you_ doing?”

                “Don’t get smart with me!”

                “Oh, I’m sorry. Are questions too smart for you?”

                There came a sniggering from behind the doorway, and the guard rolled his eyes. “It’s not that funny, Teks. And you two, stay on your own beds. I’m not going to tell you again.”

                “Oh, you’ll tell me ag-“ Yly dissolved into another coughing fit. The guard smirked.

                “Or maybe I won’t have to. You’re from the Jaggia Spurdi outbreak, right? I don’t envy you the next few months.”

                “Hah… Well, you’re not wrong there.” She sat back, a hand on her chest. “You’re not wrong there.”

                Mauvana felt a twinge of fear, there. Yly said nothing more, so she slowly lifted her hand up and rattled the chain.

                “Shackle buddies,” Mauvana croaked. Yly looked over. At first she looked surprised, but then her face settled into a smile.

                “Shackle buddies.”

* * *

 

                Time passed. Mauvana kept her eyes closed most of the time, but sometimes she opened them and glared at the overhead light. It was still too bright. Next to her, Yly hacked and coughed and swore under her breath.

                She swore a lot. Mauvana hadn’t learned so many new words since Jargon spilled coffee on his lap.

                Jargon.

Mauvana’s smile faded. It was probably about time for the morning assignment now, but she probably couldn’t do it here. Her right hand was actually missing, and she was no good with her left even when it wasn’t shackled to a bed.

                This… this was bad. She was in a right pickle, wasn’t she. How was she going to get out of this?

                _Run_.

                That wasn’t helpful. She was shackled to a bed, remember?

                _Run_.

                No, really, she was shacked to a bed! Look!

                _Run_.

                She _couldn’t_ run! She was shackled to a bed, with… metal chains. She could melt metal.

                She could run. She tried to clench her hand, and the stiff glove around it bent into a fist. It was cold. She was warm.

                She was warm, and she wanted to _run_.

                But even as her hand began to burn, the glove stood firm. It started to glow, but it did not melt.

                It occurred to her that they’d seen her melt through the door. Maybe they put a special glove on her, to stop it happening again.

                That made sense.

                It also made her frown. So she couldn’t run, and she couldn’t draw, and she couldn’t see Jargon, and she couldn’t go back to her office and take morning assignments. What could she do?

                Listen to Jargon’s daughter? Lie here in pain? Stare at that _stupid_ light?

                She fixed her eyes on it. It was too bright. Everything was too bright, and too painful, and she just wanted it to _go away_!

                _Bang_.

                The light exploded, raining glass shards onto the ground. She heard the guards shout from the hallway, saw Yly jerk up and let out a, “What the _fuck_ was that?”

                That was her. “That was me.”

                Yly looked over at her, eyes wide as saucers. “That was you?”

                Before she could respond, the two guards ran into the room, blasters primed. “What happened in here? Who’s responsible for this?”

                Silence.

                “Who?”

                Yly’s face set into a frown. Then she reached into her blanket, pulled out something small and flicked it at the nearest guard.

                “Oops! Missed again.”

                The guard pointed his blaster at her. “You again. You broke the light?”

                “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve got bad aim – must’ve learned it from you guys.”

                His expression darkened. The other guard sniggered.

                “Shut up, Teks! This isn’t funny – this demonstrates a serious lack of respect for authority! And what were you throwing?” He bent down to pick it up. “A screwdriver? This is contraband! Where did you get this?”

                “Same place you probably got your job. Connections.”

                “Right. That’s it.” He grabbed Yly’s arm. “You’re coming with me.”

                “Oh, no, I’m so scared.”

                “Good. You should be.” He undid her chains and wretched her to her feet. Yly stumbled, and he practically dragged her to the door. “I’m gonna teach you not to mess with me. You’ll be calling me sir when I’m done with you!”

                Yly said nothing as she passed Mauvana’s bed, but gave her a little wink before disappearing into the hallway. Her emotions were strange; Mauvana expected some fear – she certainly felt it from Teks as he watched them walk out – but instead there was a lot of excitement. Inspiration. It was strange, and Mauvana didn’t know what to make of it.

                But they were gone now, and Teks nervously returned to his post outside the doorway. Mauvana looked up at the light, and smiled a little bit.

                At least that was gone. And now she could close her eyes without seeing the glare on her eyelids.

                So that was something.

* * *

 

                Time passed, and eventually Yly and the guard returned. Yly was bent over, cradling her chest with one arm and stopping her bleeding nose with the other. The guard led her towards her bed.

                “Now lay down.”

                “Yes, _sir_.”

                The guard couldn’t keep a smug smile from crawling across his face. “That’s what I like to hear. You keep calling me sir, and you won’t have any more trouble with me. It’s as simple as that.”

                He locked the chain around her bed, gave it a pull, and backed off.

                “As simple as that. See, I know what I’m doing. I always know what I’m doing. Wouldn’t expect my level of skill from a man who got his job from ‘connections’, now would you?”

                Yly raised her eyebrows. “Oh, yes sir. You really locked those handcuffs up tight. With the key and everything.”

                “What? No, I was talking about- ugh, nevermind. You stay quiet now.”

                Mauvana watched him walk back to his post. She turned back to Yly, who was currently looking at all the buttons on her armrest. She pressed one, and a piece of tissue paper dispensed from the head of the bed and fluttered down into her lap. She started mashing the button.

                “Be quiet!”

                “Hey,” Mauvana heard Teks’ quiet voice from behind the doorway. “I think she’s just getting tissues for her nose. Maybe we should leave her alone?”

                The guard grunted, but said nothing else. In a moment, the last of the tissues landed on Yly’s lap. After another fit of coughing, she bent her legs up, hiding the stack from view of the doorway. She turned to Mavana and flashed a winning smile as she reached into one of her sleeves and drew out… a pen.

                Yly then hunched over and began to write on the tissues. When she was done, she rolled the tissue around the pen, glanced up at the guards, and then offered it to Mauvana.

                Mauvana reached out. She could just barely take it from her hand.

                It was thin tissue paper. Very thin. When she pulled it, it tore really easily-

                “ _What are you doing_!”

                Mauvana looked up. Yly was staring at her like she’d grown a second head.

                “ _Read it!_ ” She whisper-screamed. Mauvana blinked, and then nodded. She unfurled the note, and the pen dropped into her lap. Nice blue pen. Smooth. ‘North Fandav Hospital’ was written on the side. Fandav. It sounded familiar. Was that where she used to live?

                “ _Not the pen! The note!_ Read the goddamn note!”

                The guard stuck his head in. “What’s going on in there?”

                “Vote! I vote that you, sir, are the best guard I’ve ever had in my life. Hands down.”

                “Yeah? Well, why don’t you show your appreciation by being quiet for once in your damn life, huh?”

                Mauvana looked down at the note. The handwriting was small and messy, and there was a tear in the middle from when she’d tried to test the tissue paper, but it was legible enough.

                _HELP ME HELP YOU ESCAPE. HOW DID YOU BLOW UP LIGHT BULB?_

                Blow up ‘the’ light bulb, she should have written. Anyway, this was easy to answer: magic. She tried to write this on the tissue, but it caught and ripped under the nib.

She frowned. Maybe if she had a harder surface? Mauvana placed it on the bed rail, and kept it pinned there with her wrist whilst her fingers awkwardly scrawled out the word. It looked pretty bad. You could read it, but… come on. If she put this on Jargon’s desk, he’d rip it up in front of her. And then he’d probably yell at her about the ten page minimum.

                And she probably couldn’t draw either, could she. Not even a little star? No, that looked terrible too! What was she going to do if she couldn’t write or draw? This was her _thing_. Without it, she was just a stupid… useless, magical weirdo, head in the clouds, who was never going to get her old job back, never going to see Jargon again... She was just going to sit here in the hospital, and time was going to pass, and time was going to pass, and-

                A rattle of the chains. Mauvana blinked, looked over to Yly. She was looking straight ahead, her aura tinged with discomfort, but her arm was extended and offering the entire pile of napkins across the gap.

                “Here,” She said in a quiet, quiet voice. “It’s- uh, everything’s okay.”

                Mauvana took them. After a moment, she picked up the original napkin and offered it across the gap. Yly glanced over, took it, and then returned to staring at that one spot on the ceiling.

                “Thanks.”

                Huh. Yly looked absolutely uncomfortable at the sight of someone crying. There was a genuine tension in her shoulders, a downturn in her lips… Mauvana wondered why she was like this.

Maybe she used to live on a planet where everyone cried, but she wasn’t able to. This inability made her feel insecure about her place in society, thus triggering her to go on an epic quest to find out the secret of crying. Maybe that was why she got arrested… yes. In her constant search to prove herself to her emotionally distant (discounting their tearful appearance) parents, Yly goes out in search of a pain that will make her cry, only to find that she is truly broken, nothing can fix her, and she will rot in prison until the sweet release of death takes her from this mortal plane. Also her parents divorce and her dad goes to prison too. Not the same one, though – that’s a bit convenient when the UL has over two thousand separate prisons.

No… that didn’t sound right. It was too dark. As Jargon would say: hit'em with the hope! Yeah, how about Yly enlists in the United Life army and finds true purpose not in crying, but in loyal service to the empire? No, hmm, that still doesn’t fit. Jargon would’ve loved that plotline though.

                “Dude. Mauvana. Mauvana.”

                Yly was staring at her now, one eyebrow raised.

                “What are you staring at me for?” She mimed wiping her eyes. “Are you gonna…?”

                Mauvana looked down at the stack of napkins, and thought for a moment. She took one off the top, and scrawled a little message on it – so messy, so slow, but she tried not to think about it. She rolled it up in the pen, and passed it over the gap.

                Yly unfurled the note. She read it slowly, and then looked up at Mauvana.

                “Who am I?”

                Mauvana smiled and nodded. Background information. That was what she was missing.


	5. Mauvana

                Mauvana was learning all sorts of things about Yly. Did you know she actually wasn’t a UL citizen? She came from a fleet of space nomads; in her youth, she and her family traveled the stars, mining asteroids and selling minerals to stations for profit. Wow. She’d never heard of space nomads before, but apparently it was a big thing.

                That was wild. And - judging by how Yly periodically dropped her pen and massaged her wrist – hard to communicate in tissue form. The two of them were relieved when Teks leaned in through the doorway.

                “We’re changing the guard. Fox and Treryr are taking over now.”

                “Cool.” Yly quickly stashed the pen. “I don’t care.”

                “Oh, well… I thought you’d like to know.”

                Once he was gone, Yly heaved a great sigh. “Finally, those guys are gone. You think these weirdos are gonna be _such sticklers about a little noise_?”

                No response. Yly smiled. “Awesome. So where was I?”

                “I don’t know, but you’re in the hospital now.” Mauvana said.

                “Haha, ver-“ She coughed into a tissue. “-very funny. Anyway, I was the only actual kid in the fleet for years. It was… well, it was nice, but you never get that feeling of independence when there’s always twenty or so aunts and uncles doting on you every moment of the day. So I struck out on my own.”

                Mauvana thought about striking out on her own. No Jargon. No writing. Just her, on her own.

                “That sounds scary.”  
                “It wasn’t all that bad. First I kept purely asteroid mining, but there’s way more money if you diversify. You know what people’d pay top coin for? Soil. You go to a planet with a natural atmosphere, shovel a good few pounds of the stuff into your hold, and you sell it to some poor sap who’s never seen a starless sky.” She coughed. ‘Course, you need the interstellar fuel, but otherwise it’s worth its weight in gold.”

                As she watched, Yly began to smile. Mauvana saw a warm yellow creep into her aura.

                “And I did that for a time, until I met her.” She stared past the ceiling, gazing at something beyond the room with a dreamy expression. “Viana, she’s called. She was trying to start a garden on her ship, and we got talking and it sort of went from there.”

                “What went from there?”

                “Well, everything, really. I never used to have somebody I could just… talk to. Not like I could with her.” She snorted. “Maybe we rushed things a little, but it worked out for us. Took us like six months to move in together.”

                “That’s nice.”

                “It was! It was.” The glow faded. “But, you know, she had a family. From the UL Homeworld. She’d come from one of the last refugee ships before the blockade closed them down, and her family was still trapped on planet. They couldn’t leave.”

                “The blockade?”

                “Yeah. The big ship in the sky, the Intrepid? It’s not there for decoration.”

                “There’s a ship in the sky?”

                “Yeah, there’s- what? Have you never been outside?”

                Mauvana thought for a moment, and then she shook her head. Yly’s eyes widened.

                “Oh, boy. I bet you’ve had a fun life. Well, there’s been a blockade for going on fifteen years now – people can’t leave, and supplies can’t come in. Viana had no way to contact them; she didn’t even know if they were alive. It was bad. It still is bad.”

                Yly paused. She sighed. “I… I had to do something. So I started taking supplies, and bringing them to the Homeworld. Got one of those old UL scout ships – the Intrepid couldn’t detect me.”

                “Wait, isn’t that illegal?”

                “Very. Viana thought I was insane.” She leaned over, and stared Mauvana down with a sudden intensity. “But I’ll tell you what: this planet is insane. The UL is insane. Outside – well, I don’t know where you were for fifteen years, but you’re not missing out. There’s people starving in the streets. Magical folk, they get taken away in the night – nobody knows where they go. There’s soldiers on every corner, but they’re not there to help. They’re there to keep you in line.”

Her lips curled in a sneer. “And outside, the UL’s still trying to pretend it’s the last great intergalactic empire, but it’s not. It’s dead. It’s rotting. And something’s got to give, and every day I was running the blockade, I thought, _thank the_ _stars above_ I’m not stuck here. Thank the stars, that I can come home to my ship, and I can come home to Viana, and my family, and I can go wherever the hell I want.”

                There was a deep bitterness in her aura, now. She leaned back, and she stared up at the ceiling.

                “But then I got stuck.” She said. “They caught me, and they threw me in one of their dirty little prisons, and they threw away the key. I’ve spent five years in a cell I can’t stretch my arms in, staring at a wall for twenty three hours a day. I haven’t seen Viana since I kissed her goodbye that morning, and I’m sure my family has no idea where I went – I never told them what I was doing.”

                Her face crumpled – Mauvana thought she might cry, but instead she launched into a massive coughing fit. Her entire body spasmed, and blood spotted on her white blankets. Finally she fell back, breathing like she’d run a marathon.

                “But…” She continued hoarsely. “I’m not dying here. Whatever happens… I’m getting out, and I’m gonna see them again. It’s… it’s the only thought that’s kept me sane. I’m not dying here.”

                She coughed again.

                “So… where’re you from?”

                Mauvana shrugged.

                “Don’t wanna talk about it, huh.” She turned her head away. “That’s okay.”

                “No, people keep asking me that question, but I don’t know. I work with Jargon – I won a writing competition and I wrote and drew stuff for him. Like posters. But then he went missing and people shot me and now I’m here.” She paused. “Jargon’s daughter said I was going to prison – do you think they’d let us share cells?”

                Yly burst out laughing. Then she started coughing, and once she relaxed, she turned to Mauvana.

                “No.” Her eyes sparkled, but her expression was deadly serious. “Once they take us out of this hospital, I guarantee you we’ll never see each other again.”

                “Oh. That’s sad.”

                “It would be, wouldn’t it?” Her voice lowered to a breath. “That’s why we’re escaping before that happens. You can get us out of here.”

                Mauvana frowned. “Me? How can I help?”

                “You’ve got the magic, kid. You’ll help a lot. So, what do you say? Do you want to see the stars, shackle buddy?”

                The stars. Mauvana had never seen the stars. Mauvana had never seen a lot of things. All she had seen was grey, and concrete, and papers, and tablets, and pain, and Jargon. Her whole life, she had done what he told her to, and she had tried to be normal, tried to keep her head out of the clouds, tried to stop dreaming of pirates, of stories, of the great big world outside. For five years.

                Maybe she had lived in a prison, too.

                Mauvana turned to Yly. “I want to see the stars.”

                She smiled. “You’ll see them. We’ll both see them again.”


	6. Mauvana

                Time passed in the hospital. Yly rested; her voice was sore. Mauvana stared up at the ceiling. It was clear, and white, and a little too low.

                Mauvana imagined stars. She’d never seen them in person, or if she had, she didn’t remember. But she’d seen them in photos; she’d seen a lot of things in photos.

                Like a photo of Jargon and his wife on his desk. He was smiling in that one, but he was very different in person. Stars were probably different when you were looking at the real thing, too.

                She’d seen a photo of Mizar.

Mauvana turned to Yly. “Do you know…?”

She was still asleep. Her aura was peaceful and grey. Mauvana sighed, and she looked back up at the ceiling. Maybe she’d find the real Mizar out there, too.

                But for now she was stuck here. In this bed.

                _Run_ , said the pirate. Mauvana looked down, at the tissues in her lap. She picked one up, held it by the corner and let it dangle. And she stared at it.

                She _stared_ , and she could see the centre blacken. A wisp of smoke peeled off, and a hole appeared, ringed with glowing orange. Mauvana kept staring, and the hole slowly grew. Flecks of ash fell in her lap. And it grew, and it grew, and the tissue burned up.

                Mauvana smiled. She brushed the ash away, and she picked up another tissue.

                _More precise this time_ , said the pirate’s voice. Or maybe it had been her voice all along, and she was just beginning to understand it.

 

* * *

 

                _She means harm_.

                Mauvana shoved the tissues she’d been burning under her bed and closed her eyes. Though she couldn’t see it, she felt a familiar presence enter the room. And another presence, a cold one that sent shivers down her spike.

                “She’s asleep,” Jargon’s daughter was saying. “Good. How much longer until I can take her?”

                “Uh, let me check… she should be ready for release in about three months.”

                “Three months?! Are you serious?”

                “Yes, at the earliest.”

                “What’s the hold up? Is it the limb regen, because that’s not a priority. I need her out as soon as possible.”

                “It’s not the limb regen, ma’am. In three months we get our next shipment of supplies. Her mag-chip was damaged when she was shot in the shoulder, and UL regulations prohibit us from letting magically-capable patients leave without a functioning chip.”

                “That’s… I’m not pleased, director. Three months is a long time.”

                “I’m sorry, but I’ve put in a priority order. That’s the best I can do.”

                Jargon’s daughter sniffed. “Why does it smell like smoke in here?”

                “It’s the light. Another patient hit it with a screwdriver. This is a prison ward; it gets lively at times. I’ll have it fixed.”

                “I see. Well, I want her ready for release in three months, and not a day later.”

                “I will try my best.”

                As they left, Mauvana realised that her hand was burning from within the glove. Two people, standing around, talking about what they were going to do to her. She actually really hated Jargon’s daughter, she realised. She didn’t remember hating something as much as she did that lady, and it was a little distracting. She looked up at the ceiling, but all she could think about was how Jargon’s daughter messed everything up. Was still messing things up. She put Mauvana in the hospital, and now she wanted to put her in prison.

                Mauvana wondered how she’d like it, having somebody boss her around. Yly coughed, and it came to her.

                You know what? She was going to mess up Jargon’s daughter’s life like she did hers. She didn’t know how yet, but she was.

                And now that she decided that, Mauvana felt a little better. The burning died down, and she picked up another tissue.

 

* * *

 

                Time passed in the hospital. Mauvana felt herself getting tired; she didn’t remember falling asleep, but she remembered opening her eyes again and not being tired anymore. Still in pain, though. That didn’t seem like it was going anywhere.

                She looked over at Yly. At first she looked like she was still asleep, but she cracked her eyes opened and smiled at Mauvana.

                “Morning, sleepyhead.” She croaked. “How’s-“

                And that was as far as she got before she dissolved into another coughing fit. Mauvana cringed as she heard Yly’s breath rattle in her chest; a hoarse, infected sound came from her throat every time she breathed in. For a moment it seemed like it was easing up, but then she launched into another round. Every movement rattled her body, brought sharp pain that Mauvana could feel alongside her own.

                After too long, it subsided, and Yly sank back into the bed, pale and weak and breathing with every ounce of effort left in her body.

                Mauvana watched her, and then raised her arm and rattled her chain. Yly looked over at her, and she dug in her covers and drew out one of the tissues she’d been practicing with. She’d burned the centre out, leaving a very thin ring around the border.

                Yly smiled a little bit, and she lifted her hand in a weak thumbs up. She felt a little bit better, Mauvana could tell. And that made her feel better, too.

 

* * *

 

                Time passed. How much time? A long time, probably. Or maybe just a short time. It was beginning to drive Mauvana crazy.

                She used to have a clock in her room, when she worked for Jargon. And she could measure time so easily, because Jargon came at 6 and then he came at 8, and sometimes in between. And then she slept. And that was her day.

                But how long was a day here? Was it every time the guards changed? Was it every time she went to sleep? Or had a day finally passed when she pushed a button for more tissues and the bed beeped because it was out?

                How long had she been here? A day? A month? Three months? Mauvana didn’t know, and she tried not to think about it. All she knew was that time passed, and she kept practicing with her magic. She burned little holes in the ceiling, and she let her hand get hot, tried to see how bright she could make her glove glow.

And she was getting better at it. Time passed, and Mauvana watched somebody come and fix the light. And when he left, she stared up at that blinding light and she frowned.

                It flickered. It dimmed. She smiled.

                Time passed, and Mauvana sometimes talked to Yly when she was awake. She had interesting things to say, but they never talked long before her voice turned hoarse and she started to cough again.

                Mauvana once asked her about Mizar.

                “The pirate?” Yly nodded. “Oh, yeah, she’s an old legend. Plunged a battleship into a star. You know the story, right?”

                “No.” She said. “Who’s Alcor?”

                “The Dreambender? He’s an old demon. I don’t know much about him though; I’m no demonologist. My aunt Saulji was – she was a little bit magically inclined, too. She was awesome.” Yly looked at her. “You interested in this stuff?”

                “Yes. I want to know what she was like.”

                “Oh, well, good luck with that. She died hundreds of years ago, so I don’t know-“ She coughed. “I don’t-“

                And another coughing fit. Time passed, and those seemed to be getting more and more frequent.

* * *

 

                Time passed, and Mauvana noticed her arm had a wrist again. On her right, it was still covered with wires, but when she flicked her wrist, it twitched.

                It didn’t quite feel like _her_ wrist, though. It was a strange experience indeed. But time passed, and she could move it easily. Like a new wrist. Not her old wrist.

                She’d like to have fingers again. Then she could start writing again. She missed that, so much.

* * *

 

                Time passed, and they got Teks and the mean guard again. Mauvana watched him stand over Yly, his lips curled in a sneer.

                “Well, lookie here! My favourite patient. How’re you feeling?”

                Yly smiled brightly at him. “I’m doing fine, thank you very much.”

                “Yeah, well, you look like shit.” He leaned closer. “And you’re forgetting your manners. Where’s my ‘sir’?”

                “Oh, I’m forgetting my manners? I’m so sorry.” She motioned him closer. “Closer. No, closer. My voice is killing me.”

                The guard came closer, and Yly coughed in his face. He let out a shrill yelp and staggered back, wiping his face as she started to laugh.

                “There’s your sir!”

                 “What the fuck? Are you trying to kill me?”

                 “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, _sir_. I know for a fact they give you space wastes vaccines.”

                He clenched his fists. “You- you’re gonna pay for that!”

                “Let me get out my wallet. Wait, oh no, I’m out of fucks to give.” She coughed as she shrugged. “What are you gonna do to me, man? I don’t care.”

He was almost speechless with rage. “Why you- I can’t- you’re nothing! You know that! You’re absolutely nothing! Scum like you, I don’t know why we waste medicine on you!”

                Then his mood changed instantly – Mauvana felt it like a sudden chill. A smile came over his face, and he walked over to the side of Yly’s bed and pressed a button. Then he turned and started towards the door.

                “What was that?” Yly tried to look at the side of the bed, but her shackles wouldn’t let her reach that far. “Hey, buddy, you know you have to be a doctor to know how these things work, right?”

                The guard paused as he walked by Teks. “I’m gonna go wash up. You can keep an eye on the zoo, right?”

                Teks frowned. “What did you…? Okay. Okay.”

                He disappeared down the hallway. Yly kept feeling around down the side of her bed. The general grey peace of her aura had disappeared; Mauvana could feel a simmering anxiety beneath her frozen smile.

                It was suddenly very quiet. And _time passed_.


	7. Mauvana

                “You ever wish you could’ve done something different with your life?”

                Mauvana looked over at Yly. She was lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

                “I don’t know.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “I don’t remember much of it. Except for working for Jargon. I don’t know what I’d change from there, though.”

                Yly looked over at her. “Where were you before you worked with Jargon?”

                “Outside, I guess.” Mauvana made a face. “But there’s so many people outside, and they’ve all got their little worlds. I remember… things, but I don’t know if they were my things. I remember stroking my beard, but I don’t have a beard. Stuff like that.”

                “Huh. Sounds like a nightmare.”

                “So I did like staying with Jargon, I think. I didn’t see anybody other than him; I finally had some space to think for once. I liked it. I _really_ liked it.” She frowned. “But it also wasn’t so good? Jargon always said I had to keep my head out of the clouds, but I never could. Hey, Mauvana, keep your head out of the clouds. Your head is in the clouds again, Mauvana. You’re letting me down. You’re lucky you have me, because nobody else is ever gonna put up with you. Do what I say.”

                Yly said nothing. Mauvana looked away.

                “And I did. I tried to please him, all the time. I liked to think he cared about me, but I… I probably made that part up. People don’t care about other people. They’re all caught up in their own little worlds.”

                It was quiet, for a time. Mauvana could feel Yly mulling over her words beside her.

                 “That’s… heavy stuff, ki- Mauvana. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

                “Yeah. It is heavy, I think.”

“And you’ve probably right about people. If it’s not about them and theirs, they don’t give a damn.” She paused. “But, um, for what it’s worth, I care about you.”

                Mauvana looked over at her. “I care about you, too.”

                And they both meant that. The thought made her smile.

                Then Yly’s face scrunched up, and the smile died. She let out one, loud cough, sat up, and coughed again, and again, and again. She dry retched over the side of the bed, and then fell back, a sheen of sweat shining on her face.

                “Stars,” Yly said. She tried to take a full breath. “Oh… stars.”

                Mauvana watched her as she reached over and tried feeling for the buttons again.

                “Yly?” She asked.

                “Yeah?”

                “You ever wish you could’ve done something different with your life?”

                Yly looked over at her. “Me? Well, for starters, I wish I hadn’t wound up here!”

She laughed a little, the sound coming out as a wheeze. She shook her head. “No, that’s, uh… Good question, kid. I, uh…”

                Mauvana could see her think it over. Her aura grew stormy, and she sighed.

                “You know, before all this, I used to take a lot of stuff for granted. Family. Friends. Life. Everything, really.” She grimaced. “I thought I’d always have my people behind me, I thought I’d always have the whole universe to explore. And now I don’t… I hope they knew how much I loved them. I don’t think I showed it as much as I should’ve, and now…” She coughed. “Well, I hope I get the chance to see them again, so I can let them know.”

                “That’s heavy stuff, Yly.” Said Mauvana. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

                Yly shrugged, and hesitated.

Then: “FIJUY system.” She looked Mauvana dead in the eyes. “There’s a trade station orbiting a red moon called JEVERIS. My folks do all their business there; just say my name, they’ll know who you’re talking about.”

Mauvana frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”

                She watched Yly turn away. “If you ever find yourself in the area, just say my name. They’d look after you. I knew some good people. Good people I couldn’t wait to get away from.” She wheezed another laugh. “I’m such an idiot.”

                Then that laughter turned to coughing, and that coughing turned to silence. Silence, with only the sound of her slow, sick breathing as it rattled through her chest. In, out. In, out. Mauvana listened, and time passed.

 

* * *

 

                Mauvana thought Yly said something. She looked over at her questioningly, and yes, she was speaking. But her words were spoken under the breath, and her eyes were half-lidded and drooping, her head slowly swaying from side to side on the headrest. Her skin had taken on a yellowish tinge, and her aura a sluggish, disquiet shroud, like her soul was swimming in amber. She was not entirely there.

                Another coughing fit racked her body, and Mauvana cringed. She looked down at the buttons right by her armrest. Beside the tissue dispenser was one marked ‘help’.

                She pressed it, and it lit up with a red light.

                Time passed. Mauvana listened to Yly as she coughed, and muttered, and breathed – sometimes fast and erratic, sometimes slow, with so many awful pauses between breaths. Time passed, and the light stayed lit.

Time passed, and nobody came to help. Nobody cared.

                Mauvana cared. She knew she cared, because Yly wasn’t feeling the utter dread she felt right now. It was coming from her. Her emotions, and her thoughts, and her welling tears at the thought of losing maybe the one person in the universe who cared about her.

                There had to be something she could do. There just had to be. Mauvana dug under the covers of her bed and drew out a fistful of burned tissues. She remembered practicing on them; some of them had only a hole through the centre, but she’d managed some more intricate designs on the later ones. She was almost starting to think of it as an art form, but then she ran out some time ago. She couldn’t unburn the ones she’d already burned, so she stopped.

                But holding them now, Mauvana wondered if she could. She picked one out of the pile, and held it up.

                She _stared_ , as she’d practiced so many times before. She focused her thoughts – she wanted it to heal, she wanted it to unburn, she wanted the fabric to knit back together and become whole again.

                She wanted it back to normal. She wanted everything to be okay. She wanted to feel like she wasn’t screwing everything up all over again.

                _Head in the clouds_ , thought Mauvana.

She frowned. And the tissue caught fire.

                Mauvana dropped it with a yelp, quickly steepling her legs to keep Teks from seeing it burn. She watched it burn, watched it crumple up in a manner of seconds and fade into ash.

                Next to her, Yly breathed slowly, her chest shuddering with every movement. She wasn’t muttering anymore.

                She needed help. But Mauvana could feel the fire underneath her skin, and she knew she couldn’t be of use.

She was fire, and anger, and cold, helpless dread. Those were her emotions. Coming from her, and no one else.

                Mauvana sat there, and listened to Yly breathe.

                Time passed. Time passed.

 

* * *

 

                _She means harm_.

                Mauvana closed her eyes as Jargon’s daughter and the director came in the room. This time, however, it didn’t seem like she would be allowed to sleep this one out.

                “Hey, wake up.” A hand slapped her face just hard enough to hurt. “I need you up for this. Wake up.”

                Briefly, Mauvana considered keeping up the act. But she could feel the rising tide of annoyance in Jargon’s daughter, and she decided not to risk it. She cracked open her eyes and saw the woman’s unsmiling face above her own.

                “Here,” Jargon’s daughter dropped a tablet onto her lap. It almost looked like one of her old morning assignments. “Sign it.”

                Mauvana picked it up. It was a lot sleeker than the old tablets Jargon used, and the paragraphs were a whole lot wordier.

                _This document certifies that the defendant, Mauvana Seep F457907, knowingly, voluntarily and intelligently_ -

                “Don’t read it.” Jargon’s daughter snapped. “I’ll be here all day if you read it.”

                Mauvana looked up at her. “What does it say?”

                “It doesn’t matter to you. Just sign it.”

                “If it doesn’t matter to me, why do I need to sign it?”

                The rising tide of annoyance rose a little more. “Mauvana, let me put it this way. It goes a whole lot better for you if you sign this rather than battling it out in court.”

                “And it saves her mountains of paperwork.” The director added. Jargon’s daughter flashed a thin smile.

                “Yes. A lot of paperwork. So just sign this, and you can get back to, uh… I dunno, staring at the ceiling or whatever it is you do here.” She looked around. “You know, you should put a P-TV in here or something. What do these guys do all day?”

                The director shrugged. Mauvana looked down at the tablet again, her finger poised above the signature line. Next to her, she could hear Yly, and the shallow weak breaths she was taking.

                Mauvana set the tablet down, and she looked up at Jargon’s daughter. “Can you help me?”

                She raised an eyebrow. “Help you?”

                “My friend, over there. A guard pressed a button, and-“

                “I don’t have time for this. You need to-“  
                “No.” Mauvana clenched her fist. “You do have time for this. My friend is dying, and it’s a button, and maybe you don’t care, but I do and I’m not doing anything you tell me until you help her!”

                She could see Jargon’s daughter take a half-step back, shock passing over her aura and quickly being buried as she shot a glance towards the director. He cleared his throat.

                “You’re wasting my time. Sign it.”

                “You’re wasting my time! And you’re wasting my friend’s time! We’ve all been sitting here, doing _nothing_! How come her five years is worth less to you than your five seconds! You’re not that important!” Mauvana picked up the tablet and chucked it on the ground. “It’s not fair! Five seconds! It’s a button, and I can’t press it and I can’t help but you can and _I don’t understand why you won’t_!”

                “Security!”

                Teks came running from the door.

                “It’s just a button! It’s five seconds! It’s-“

                “Alright! Alright!” Jargon’s daughter put her hands up. “Everybody just-“

                “It’s just a button-!“

                “ _Everybody_ , just calm down. I’ll help you, okay?” She glared down at Mauvana. “What do you need help with?”

                Mauvana pointed. “My friend. Yly. A guard pressed a button and I think she’s dying.”

                “A guard?”

                Teks shook his head as she looked to him. “It wasn’t me, ma’am. I didn’t see anything.”

                Jargon’s daughter walked over to the foot of Yly’s bed. Mauvana watched her look down, take in her jaundiced, sweaty skin, her shallow, weak breathing, the way her feet twitched and her hands gripped fistfuls of fabric, and then let go. A flicker of empathy flashed across her aura.

                “She does look in pretty rough shape.” Was all Jargon’s daughter said. “You say a guard pushed a button? Director?”

                The director strolled over to the side of the bed. “I think I see what she’s talking about. It looks like someone cut off her medication. It’s a simple fix.”

                He pressed a button, and the bed beeped.

                “There. She should stabilize in the next few hours. Now, back to the signature-“

                “Wait a minute.” Jargon’s daughter frowned. “Who turned it off?”

                “Wasn’t me.” Teks chimed in.

                “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

                “Um, actually, it does matter. You’ve got a guard in the hospital who turns patient’s medications off?”

                The director waved his hand. “Patients say a lot of things. It probably got turned off by accident.”

                Mauvana shook her head. “No, it was a guard. He was on this shift, but he walked out after he did it.”

                Jargon’s daughter turned to Teks. “Who was on this shift with you?”

                “Look, I didn’t see anything, I wasn’t a part of this-“

                “Who was on this shift with you?”

                Teks shifted his weight. “Uh… it was a guy called Jukan. I don’t know him very well.”

                The director let out a groan. Jargon’s daughter looked at him.

                “You seem to know this name.”

                “It’s my… it’s my nephew.” He shook his head. “Jukan is known to be a troublemaker.”

                Jargon’s daughter raised an eyebrow. “He’s done this type of thing before?”

                “No, he hasn’t done anything like what he’s being accused of, but there have been… incidents. I’ll talk to him.”

                “No. I think you need to fire him, actually.”

                The room went deadly silent. All eyes were on Jargon’s daughter.

                “Excuse me? You’re asking me to fire my nephew?”

                “If he’s cutting off people’s medication, yes. A thousand times, yes!”

                “We don’t know if he did it-“

                “That was not an accident. You don’t design hospital beds that accidentally turn off. Listen, Stal, your nephew, he’s a liability!” She pointed at Mauvana. “What if he suddenly decides he doesn’t like my patient? It’s just some prisoner now, but he’s going to land you in a lot of trouble if he tries that with anybody important!”

                Director Stal looked away. “It would upset my brother if I fired him.”

                “All the more reason to.” Jargon’s daughter bent down and picked up the tablet. “Family brings nothing but trouble to your life – look at what I have to deal with! You really want your nephew loose in your hospital? It’s gonna bring way more trouble than anything your brother can throw at you. Trust me.”

                “Well… this isn’t the appropriate place to discuss this.”

                “Fine. But you keep your nephew away from this wing, do you understand? I don’t want him anywhere near my prisoner.”

                “I understand.”

                “Good.” Jargon’s daughter handed the tablet back to Mauvana. “Now sign it.”

                Mauvana quickly scribbled her signature and handed it back. “Thank you,” She whispered.

                Jargon’s daughter didn’t acknowledge her. “I have everything I need now. Let’s go, Director.”

                She walked out, tablet in hand, Director Stal trailing behind her.

 

* * *

 

                Time passed. Mauvana stared up at the light on the ceiling. A quiet cough from beside her drew her attention.

                “Oh, stars,” said Yly. She stretched and rubbed her face. “You wouldn’t believe the dream I was having.”

                Mauvana smiled. “You’re okay.”

                “Heh, I dunno, am I? Feels like my brain’s trying to push out my eyes.” She coughed again. “Everything hurts. Everything always hurts.”

                “I got them to fix the button.”

                “The button?” Yly paused. “Oh, the button.”

                “And the guard isn’t allowed to be in this wing anymore.”

                “That’s… good news.  Thanks, Mauvana. You did good.”

                “We’re getting out of here.” Mauvana said. “Watch.”

                She closed her eyes, and she concentrated. She wanted them to _dim_ … and all around the room and in the halls the lights flickered off. Teks let out a shout as they plunged into pitch blackness. A second later, she opened her eyes and let them shine again.

                She looked to Yly. She was grinning from ear to ear.

                “Yes, we are.”


	8. Mauvana

                Pale, it was. Pale as ash, with a smattering of liver spots on the back. Long and slender digits, tipped with neat, pink nails. The little creases and folds of flesh around the knuckles, the veins and the bones that stood out, even the writer’s bump on the side of her middle finger…

                This was Mauvana’s new right hand. A short time ago, the rubbery cast and all its wires popped off, and suddenly she had two hands again.

                It was strange to move. If Mauvana could describe it, it was like trying to move a third arm, or a tail; she wasn’t entirely sure how to move something that had never existed before. She tried to clench her old right hand, and her new one maybe twitched.

                How was she going to write with this, she wondered.

                “Hey!” Yly called. She was sitting crisscrossed on her bed, waving with her arm that wasn’t shackled to the rail. “Did you hear me?”

                Mauvana sat up. “No. Sorry. Did you say something?”

                “I was asking you how that hand’s treating you. You look worried, ki- Mauvana. Mauvana.” She snorted. “I gotta stop calling you kid. Sounds weird when I can get a good look at’cha.”

                “I don’t know. I can’t move it.”

                Yly nodded. “Had a friend who lost an arm sawing asteroids. He was using the plasma beam, dropped it and bzzzt, gone. He said it took months for him to get used to the new one. I don’t know the science, but apparently you’ve gotta work at the muscle memory for a bit. It’ll come. It’ll come, ki- Mauvana- dammit.”

                Mauvana looked down. She ran her fingers over the top of her right hand, feeling how strange it was to feel her fingers on her new hand. An entirely new sensation.

                Then something red landed on her lap. Mauvana picked it up. Some kind of ball? Squishy. Foam.

                “Throw it back!”

                She looked up at Yly. “Where did you get this?”

                “You know me. I find things. Come on,” She reached out. “Throw it back! Just try it.”

                A pause. Mauvana gently set the ball in the palm of her new hand, feeling the slight weight. She tried to clench. Not even a twitch, this time. Mauvana drew her arm back and lobbed it towards Yly. It rolled off her palm and fell pitifully short of the bed.

                “Hey, that was pretty good!” Yly grinned at her as she levitated the ball back up and into her lap. “Solid first try. You’ll get better.”

                “I guess so. Still…”

                Mauvana trailed off. Still what? She started her sentence without really knowing how to finish it. She clenched her old hand, and thought back to the day it happened. Hiding behind a chair. Helpless. She had been helpless, and it had been the single most terrifying moment in her life.

                Then she burned that man, and then-

                Her new fingers twitched. No, she didn’t want to think about that. She never wanted to feel that way again. She wanted to feel new things, like her fingers running over the back of her hand, or the foam ball as it rested in her palm, or that warm feeling in her chest when Yly smiled at her.

She had those things now, and nobody was going to take them away from her.

                Mauvana looked up at Yly, who was watching her carefully. Sitting up, legs crossed on her bed.

                “They’re probably going to take you soon.” Mauvana said. “You’re not very sick anymore.”

                Yly hesitated, and then nodded. “Probably, yeah. You know what the plan is when that happens, right?”

                “Yes.”

                “You feel ready?”

                “Yes.”

                Mauvana surprised herself at how quickly the answer came. She could see surprise flicker across Yly’s aura too, before it settled into that warm smile.

                “Then I’m not worried, kid.” She blinked. “Mauvana. Oh, for the love of-“

 

 

* * *

 

                It felt like only a short time had passed before Mauvana felt a tug on her senses.

                _She means harm_.

                Mauvana started to stash the red ball away, but she decided to leave it out. A second later, she saw Jargon’s daughter enter the room, tapping away at her screens. She was followed by two people in green scrubs. Cold, blank people, with cold, blank auras. They were bored.

                “Alright,” She said, laying eyes on Mauvana. “This is the-“

                Mauvana smiled. “Hello!”

                “Hello to you too. Anyway-“

                “Hello!”

                Jargon’s daughter turned to look at Yly, who was waving happily at her. “Yes, hello? Do I know you?”

                “Mauvana said you helped save my life. That’s real nice for a UL-hotshot such as yourself.”

                She raised an eyebrow. “You’re welcome… I suppose. I’m glad you’re not dead? Anyway-”

                “I’m glad I’m not dead too!”

                “ _Anyway_ , this is the patient.” Jargon’s daughter turned her back to Yly as she gestured the other two over to Mauvana. They blocked the light as they stood at the base of her bed. “I’ve been trying to get a mag-chip in her for three months, so I’d appreciate it if you'd keep this quick.”

                Mauvana blinked. “It’s been three months.”

                Time’s up.

                “Ignore her. Anyway, I’ll be at the front desk.” She stepped away. “Give me a call when you- what are you doing?“

                The red ball was in her palm. She tried to throw it at Jargon’s daughter. Mauvana drew it back, and it rolled off her hand again, bouncing on the rail, passing Jargon’s daughter and coming to a rest by the wall. She shot Mauvana a quizzical look.

                “Where did you get that from?”

                Mauvana shrugged. “You know me. I find things.”

                She could feel the confusion rolling off both Jargon’s daughter and the doctors. She squinted a little, trying to keep them out of her head.

                “Uh…” Jargon’s daughter cleared her throat. “This one is strange. She’s harmless, though; just do the operation.”

                “Harmless?” Mauvana looked at Yly. She nodded. “You’re wrong.”

                Thoughts swirled around the room, confusion from the doctors, a rising excitement from Yly, and just a hint, just a hint of fear as Jargon’s daughter turned to look at her directly.

                Too many thoughts. Mauvana closed her eyes. Too bright. She had to dim them.

                “What are you talking about, Mauvana?”

                _More precise this time_.

                “Mauvana? Mau- Mau… vana…”

                She heard a thump. When she opened her eyes, the light was shining in her face. Jargon’s daughter and the two doctors laid on the floor, sleeping, their thoughts dimmed with dreams. She could think again.

                “Hey!” The guards by the door advanced on her, guns drawn. “What happened? What did you do?”

                Mauvana sat up. Her hand burned hot in her glove; she concentrated, and she dimmed them too. They stumbled, dropped their blasters and fell to the floor like bags of sand, their brief, panicked flashes before unconsciousness fading to grey.

                Only one aura remained.

                “Holy shit,” Yly said, her voice rising with excitement. “We’re doing this, aren’t we?”

                Mauvana felt her hand burn hotter, hotter than it had ever burned before. The wards on the glove glowed dull red, then brilliant white, getting brighter and brighter until she squinted from the intensity. Then- black. Like a switch flipping, the glove cracked and broke off in smoking chunks from her arm. The chains around her wrist melted away, and she was free.

                She was _free_.

                Mauvana swung her legs to the side of the bed, and started to stand. She wobbled, a little. It had been three months since she last walked. She staggered over to Yly’s bed, watched the smile come over her friend’s face as she held out her own chain. She melted it with a touch.

                “Now that’s a neat trick, eh?” Yly gingerly watched the molten metal trickle onto the bed. “Careful, I’m not fireproof.”

                She quickly swung herself up and darted over to the guards, where she bent down and picked up a blaster. She pulled the trigger at a wall, and made a face when nothing happened.

                “DNA locked. Welp, it was worth a shot.” She kept it anyway, and started pulling on the guard’s shoulders. “A little help here?”

                “Wait.” Mauvana pointed at Jargon’s daughter, who was lying face down by the bed. “We’re taking her.”

                “Her? Why her?” Yly paused, then dropped the soldier. “Nevermind. Let’s just do it.”

                There was a wheelchair by the door; Yly quickly brought it over, and they both hoisted Jargon’s daughter in the seat. She slumped against the back, her arms splayed out over the armrest and her head lolling to the side. The near-permanent frown that shadowed her features had lifted, and Mauvana thought she almost looked a little silly with her mouth hanging open and her cheek squashing into shoulder. Certainly not someone to be afraid of.

                _She means harm_. The warning still echoed in her mind. She shook herself out of it just as Yly put a hand on her shoulder.

                “Alright, we’ve gotta go. Let’s get out of this dump!”

                They wheeled Jargon’s daughter out into the hallway. More white walls, more bright lights. Pictures hung on the walls, framing people Mauvana had never seen in her life. She slowed down, but Yly kept a hand on her shoulder, kept her moving.

                They swung around a corner, and came face to face with another pair of guards. Astonishment flashed in their auras as Mauvana reached out a hand. They made a futile grab for their blasters before sleep overcame them and they passed out on the floor.

                Yly cackled as she passed them. “I am so glad you can do that.”

                They passed one more corner, and came upon a stairwell. It was marked Floor 3.

                Mauvana smiled. “This is what we need! This is going well!”

                An alarm started to go off. Around them, all the doors slammed shut. Yly let out a gasp and clutched her shoulder; pain shot through them both.

                “You’re hurting!” Mauvana blinked. “This is going less well.”

                “Prison… chip. Stars…” With difficulty, Yly straightened. “It’s fine. Give me a hand with the wheelchair. We’re getting out of here.”

                They picked up the chair at both ends and ferried it down the stairs.

                “Heh,” Yly said as they reached the bottom. “At least she’s light… whoooh.”

                “Are you okay? Do you need a wheelchair too?”

                She rubbed her shoulder. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine. I expected this. We need… wait. Do you hear that?”

                They stopped. Over the blare of the alarm, they could hear something. Footsteps, coming for them.

                Yly silently took out her useless blaster and put it to Jargon’s daughter’s head. There wasn’t a drop of fear in her aura; just a stone cold determination that made Mauvana shiver. She _wasn’t_ going back to prison.

                Mauvana tried to keep some of that determination for herself as the footsteps grew louder. So many feet… so many auras. They hit her like waves – one, two, three, and she was squinting, and then four five six seven-

                And then she was drowning again. Her own mind was a drop in the ocean, and she could only go where the waves took her. She might have been tense. She might have been angry. She might have been holding a blaster. Her nose itched – and then it didn’t. She was saying something – and then her lips were pursed shut. She had no name, and no mind to call her own.

                There was an old familiarity to this drifting. It was out of time, out of body; when she drifted, it was like she didn’t exist anymore. She was only other people, seeing life through their eyes, walking in their shoes, feeling their emotions.

                She drifted…

                And a hand touched her own. Her own. An entirely new sensation.

                Mauvana blinked. She was there- and she was gone again. Nameless again. But she kept feeling that hand, and she tried to hold back the flood.

                “Put the gun down _now_!”

                Jukan. Anger. Itchy nose. Blaster. He pumped it.

                “Don’t make me ask again!”

                And Teks… Fox and Treyr – guards. She needed to dim the guards, quickly! Mauvana clenched her fists, and she reached out, and she _shut them down_.

                And suddenly, she couldn’t feel them at all. Just a little less flood, and she could open her eyes.

                The white halls, she noticed, were less white. More red, and chunky, and stringy. Jukan and the other minds were laying on the ground… and they no longer had heads. Oh. She dimmed them a little too much.

                “Holy shit.” said someone. Maybe her? No, not her.

                A surge of shock went through the other guards.

                Other guards. Mauvana needed to get rid of them too. She had an idea.

                “Hey!” Mauvana said. Her voice. She stepped forward. Her feet. “You guys better leave my castle alone! Get any closer and I will scoop out your brains and feed them to your starving widows! What’s for dinner, honey? Pink spaghetti! _Piiiink spaghetti_!”

                She charged forwards, and the guards backed up, panic flashing in their auras. One of them shot at her; she flinched and put her hand out, and it disappeared. Her hand was very hot.

                And then they were leaving, and she could hear their footsteps down the corridor, their screams echoing off the walls. As they left, she could feel the waves coming down again, and she wasn’t drowning in their thoughts anymore.

                She was still running. She slipped and fell just before the end of the hall. Then she got up, and looked back.

                Hey, Yly was still standing there with Jargon’s daughter! Success. Mauvana gave her a thumbs up.

                Yly’s mouth was wide open. “You… That was… You’re fucking terrifying.”

                She stepped over one of the soldiers missing a head. “I am?”

                “Yes. Yes, and it was awesome. Wow!” She let out a laugh. “Where did ‘pink spaghetti’ suddenly come from?”

                “Oh, that’s from a story I had when I was working with Jargon. There was this big castle that a little kid lived in, and one day this army shows up and wants to take it for themselves. He says that to them.” Mauvana wiped some stray blood off her face. “The little kid dies, but it still sounded like it fit here.”

                “It… did. It really did, actually.”

                “That’s good, because Jargon told me to scrap it. ‘It’s too gruesome, Mauvana.’ I was really sad I never got to use it.”

                “Yeah, well, you know what? Jargon sounds like an idiot. That was perfect.” She grabbed Mauvana’s arm. “Let’s keep moving, though. We do _not_ want to get caught after that show.”

                She led Mauvana along, and Mauvana wondered whether anybody would ever want to get caught in this setting.

                “To the ground floor! Yes!” Yly shook her a little. They were by a stairwell again. “Help me with the chair again.”

                Mauvana grabbed the front of the wheelchair and they quickly walked it down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, they found themselves in a reception area. The chairs were empty, the desk was unmanned and the door outside was sealed shut with a dark metal wall.

                “I’ve got this.” Mauvana stepped forwards. She tried cracking her knuckles, but that didn’t really work. How did people crack their knuckles? There had to be some sort of method.

                Anyway.

                Mauvana placed the back of her hand on the metal, felt the familiar coldness on her uncracked knuckles. It was cold, and as always, she burned hot.

                She pressed, and her hand sank into the metal. The edges glowed red, then white as they melted and ran through her fingers, but they still felt like icy water. She walked forwards, and the wall could keep her back no more effectively than wet tissue paper.

                She pushed through, and found herself outside. Outside? It almost looked like she had found herself within an even bigger building, with thin railings clinging to the four walls, extending up and down as far as she could see. The lighting was bright, but there was no sign of the sky, or people, or a way out. All she could see was the rust on the rails and the stains on the walls that surrounded her.

                Then she noticed Yly trying to push the wheelchair through the hole. After a little jiggling, she got it out. Jargon’s daughter was still slumped against the back, and Yly gave her a look.

                “Well, guess we didn’t really need a hostage. We should probably ditch her; it’ll be faster.”

                Mauvana shook her head. “She’s coming.”

                "You sure?"

                "I'm sure."

                “Alright.” Yly winced and took a moment to rub her shoulder. “Welp, gotta keep moving. Where’d you say it was again?”

                “210075 East Tolerance Corridor, Row 5.”

                “Nice. That’s not far.”

                “How do we get there?”

                “Follow me.” Yly grinned at her as she turned the wheelchair. “I know a shortcut or two.”

                They headed down the railing, the thin metal shuddering and creaking with their steps. Mauvana thought about how much it would suck if they just fell and died right now.

                It would be a real waste, she thought. They’d come so far.


	9. Chapter 9

                They ran, and they went down the stairs, and they turned corners and ran again. Mauvana couldn’t help but notice the complete lack of people on their route. Didn’t they just break out of the hospital?

                Yly laughed when she asked the question. “We’re in the alleyways of the city, Mauvana. Most places don’t even connect to the back rails anymore, not when they’ve all got teleporters. So they’re gonna have a hard time sending people out to us.”

                “Oh. Can we walk, then? My legs are tired.”

                “Hah! No.”

                Mauvana found that reasonable, but it didn’t hurt to ask. She helped Yly carry the wheelchair down another set of rickety steps.

                Jargon’s daughter groaned. She was slowly waking, so Mauvana dimmed her again. Not too much; she wanted this brain to stay inside its skull.

                “Oh, shoot.”

                Yly said that. Mauvana looked up. “What’s shooting?”

                “That railing.” She pointed at a stretch of rail that had come off the wall and was hanging down. “You think you can fix that?”

                “Yes! I can do that!”

                She reached out a hand, and closed it into a fist. The hanging rail screeched as it crumpled into a ball of rusty metal, which then snapped off and fell down, down, down into the depths of the building. There was no sound of it hitting the bottom. Mauvana pursed her lips.

                “Oh. I just broke it more.” She touched a hand to the wall. “I could break this. Then we could go around.”

                “Is there anyone on the other side?”

                “…No.”

                “Okay, break it.”

                Summoning up the heat was second nature to Mauvana by now. She crouched, and with her fingers she drew a line from the ground, up, right, and down to form a doorway. The metal fell away, glowing at the edges, and she stepped over it.

                And then she caught her breath.

                The room they’d found themselves in was small, and the air smelled sickly sweet. The light from the doorway illuminated thousands of little dust particles thrown up by the disturbance. A bed was crammed in the corner, and a figure was lying in it. It was dark around there, even darker than the rest of the room. Then the darkness _moved_ , and Mauvana could see the whole corner was alive with crawling insects. She could hear them squirming.

                Yly curled her lip. “Eugh. We should get out of here.”

                “That guy’s dead.”

                “ _Very_ dead.”

                “Why’s he dead? What happened to-“

“Don’t know, don’t want to stick around and figure it out.” She took Mauvana’s arm before Mauvana could approach them. “Come on. Keep going. Don’t think about it.”

                Mauvana melted another route through the wall, and glanced back at the dead guy before continuing on through the maze of rails. Another aura; she spotted a figure standing a few rails above them. From the fear rolling off them and way they had flattened themselves to the wall, she deduced they probably weren’t a threat.

                “Row 5.” Yly said, pointing to the engraving on the wall. “This is it.”

                “Okay. What do we do now?”

                “The hangar’s in this square. 210075… that’s just across from us.”

                Mauvana made a face. “There’s a lot of people behind the walls. Soldiers.”

                She could feel their auras. She could feel the blasters in their arms.

                Yly squeezed her hand. “We’re almost out of here. Just a little further.”

                “I’m not scared. I’m just telling you.”

                “Well, that makes one of us, then.” She laughed, but it came out more as a bark. “I’ve never gotten this far.”

                “Me neither. Also, I got shot last time, so this is going way better.”

                “Hah! Don’t jinx us.” She shook herself. “Alright, let’s finish this.”

                They wheeled Jargon’s daughter over to the far wall, and Mauvana stepped forwards. She clenched and unclenched her new hand, and she walked right through to the hangar. There it was: Jargon’s cruiser, his pride and joy, sitting right in front of her, ready for the taking.

                She smiled. This was so not allowed.

                “Wha- hey! You!” Four guards – she counted their auras – came over to her with their blasters drawn. “How did you get in here? This is off limits to civilians! You must-”

                Mauvana reached out her new hand, and she clenched it. One of the soldiers let out a strangled gasp before she was squeezed like a lemon, her body crumpling into a rind of bones, clothes and muscle while her juices spurted all over the floor, the ship, one of the soldiers and the far wall. She unclenched, and let them slop down on the ground in a wet pile.

                The soldiers promptly dropped their weapons and surrendered. Their fear – Mauvana found herself smiling. Yes, she kind of liked being feared. She liked being taken seriously.

                “Help me with the chair, Mauvana.” Yly was struggling to get it inside. Mauvana came over to help her, and she leaned in. “Alright, you see that?”

                She pointed to a circular structure in the corner of the hangar.

                “I see it. What is it?”

                “It’s a teleporter. You need to break that.”

                With a clench of her hands, the teleporter crumpled up in a shower of sparks. Yly whistled.

                “Jeez. Well, you’ll have no problem with this one last thing.” She motioned to the ship. “Obviously, we can’t teleport this ship to a UL runway, so we’re gonna need to do a bit of DIY to get her off the ground here. I’m gonna need you to make a huge hole in the side of the hangar. Can you do that?”

                Mauvana nodded. “I eat holes for breakfast.”

                “Come again?”

                “I can do that.”

                “Okay, good.” She wheeled Jargon’s daughter over to the ship. “Make it big! I haven’t flown in years; I might need the space!”

                Taking a deep breath, Mauvana walked over to the hangar wall. She closed her eyes, and she focused hard on the fire within her. She was getting hot again, getting hotter and hotter until she felt like she was going to burn herself up. The hangar wall; she moved her attention there, and she _pulled_.

                There was a terrible sound, loud and screeching and cracking and snapping. Mauvana felt like she had her fingers in something truly massive; the effort of pulling made her sweat, but she kept going. The sounds got louder, and louder, and she breathed in gasps, her heart hammering in her chest.

                Suddenly, the thing she was pulling seemed to reach a tipping point; it started coming away even without her effort. It was speeding up, too, everything coming down, down, down-

                _BOOM_.

                The impact was earsplitting, and Mauvana cracked her eyes open. The hangar-

                Where was the hangar? Everything was hazy with dust, and she coughed  and covered her mouth. She looked up, and she saw a light coming through the cloud. It didn’t look as harsh as the UL lamps she’d gotten used to; it was softer, and yellowish.

                “Mauvana? Mauvana!”

                Mauvana turned in the direction of Yly’s aura. “I’m over here.”

                “Did you just…? Oh, my stars. You brought the whole building down.”

                “I did?” She looked up. “Is that the sky?”

                “Yeah, that is the sky. Wow. Wooow.”

                “Is it a big enough hole?”

                “Big enough? Oh, yes that’s... that’s big enough. How the hell did you-? No, not the time. Come on, Mauvana.”

                Mauvana hurried over. Jargon’s ship became visible through the dust. Yly was at the gangway; she took her hand and pulled her inside.

                Jargon’s ship looked a lot like his office. Actual wooden benches and fuser steel tables lined the walls. Above them were cabinets and shelves stuffed with all his memories; Mauvana spotted a picture of him and a young girl in the cockpit of a ship, smiling.

                Her eyes slid down. Jargon’s daughter was slumped in the wheelchair, a frown creasing her face.

                “This way, Mauvana!”

                Yly was standing by a door, motioning her in. Mauvana followed her into a cockpit – a different one from the photo. This one was bigger, with a sleek black captain’s chair. Yly sat in that chair, and a screen popped up.

                _Authorisation required,_ it read, and Yly looked to Mauvana.

                “What’s the password?”

                “It's ’red-planet-jam-it-out’, no caps, no spaces.” She said. “It’s his favourite band.”

                Yly typed that in, and the screen disappeared. Lights came online, and the controls extended out from the monitor.

                They were right by Yly’s hands, but Mauvana felt her freeze. Her aura was suddenly brittle with tension, and she made no move to grab them.

                “Yly?” Mauvana asked. She didn’t move. “Yly?”

                “I-“ She took a sharp breath. “I haven’t flown in years. Not since I was shot down… stars.”

                Yly clenched her fists, and sat there for a few moments. Then she shook herself, and jerked her hands forward to grab the controls.

                “Alright.” She said. She looked back, and flashed Mauvana a tight smile. “Time to… to run this blockade one last time, right?”

                “You can do it.” Mauvana found herself smiling. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

                Yly blinked. “Wait, really?”

                “Really. The world’s so much bigger than I ever imagined – I never knew space nomads were a thing before I met you! I never knew there was anything more than just the UL, and Jargon, and doing posters. You told me about all of that.” She reached forwards, and put a hand on Yly’s shoulder. “And now, you’re going to show me.”

                For a second, Yly just stared at her. Then she cracked a smile. “That’s… that’s real nice of you to say, Mauvana. But, you know, you’re the amazing one. Fucking took down a whole UL complex; those things are literally built up from the planet’s core!”

                “Hey, you told me to make it big!”

                She snorted. “You really take me at my word, don’t you?”

                “Yep!”

                “Alright.” Yly leaned forwards and typed into the monitor. “Well, you’ve done your bit. I’m not gonna screw up mine.”

                Underneath their feet, the engines came to life with a juddering roar. The atmospheric wings extended out either side, and Yly grasped the thrust lever.

                “Buckle up,” She said, and pushed it forwards. The ship began to _move_.

                Mauvana stumbled back, and watched Yly quickly pull the craft up. They dropped sharply, but then they began to rise. The dust cleared; they were heading straight for another building. She banked a turn, and Mauvana grabbed the doorway before she went flying. In the back, she could hear pictures coming off the walls, glass shattering.

                They stabilised, and Yly let out a whoop. “Hah! You alright back there?”

                “Yeah. I should have buckled in.”

                “Now’s your chance.” She pointed up. “That guy’s gonna give us some trouble.”

                Mauvana followed her finger up into the sky. There, nestled in the thick yellow atmosphere, was a red ship. It was massive, bigger than anything she’d ever seen before and only growing in size as they approached. Littler ships looked like flies as they buzzed around its hull, mere specks against the bright paint. Weapons were drawn like claws, huge guns visible even from so far away, shining brilliantly when everything else in the UL was so dull.

                “The Intrepid. The last great UL battleship.” Yly grimanced. “Long time no see, old friend.”

                The monitor beeped.

                “What’s that?” Mauvana asked.

                “Comms call. She’s saying hello.”

                “Should we answer it?”

                “They’re just gonna tell us to stand down. No point arguing with them.”

                Mauvana hesitated. “Can I answer it?”

                “Sure. Knock yourself out.”

                She sat down in a chair, and leaned over the monitor. She tapped a button, and almost immediately a voice came on the line.

                “This is the ULSS Intrepid. You are entering restricted space; turn back immediately and submit your pirated vessel to the authorities, or we will fire upon-“

                “Pirated vessel?” Mauvana giggled. “Oh, yeah, it is. Hey, we’re technically pirates!”

                “Yarr,” said Yly.

                “Turn back immediately. You will be fired upon if you continue to approach.”

                “Yeah, no.”

                “You are disobeying-“

                “Nah.”

                “This is your final-“

                “Nope.” Mauvana sat back. “Not gonna listen to you anymore, buddy. I’m done with that.”

                All around them, the sky was darkening to black as they left the atmosphere. The first few stars twinkled from behind the Intrepid.

                “You are in violation of the Safe Planet Act. We are targeting you, and if you do not stand down immediately, you will be fired upon.”

                “Wow. That’s pretty.”

                “Excuse me?”

                “There’s so many stars out here. Wow.” She smiled. “They really do look better in person. Hey, look at that big blue one! It’s so bright. Heh, I can see it even with my eyes closed.”

                “Careful, Mauvana.” Yly glanced at her. “You’ll hurt your eyes doing that.”

                At that moment, the Intrepid cut communications. A green glow was charging at the end of one of its big guns. Yly was heading straight for it, her knuckles white as she gripped the controls.

                A light flashed at the end of the gun, and she pulled up just as it fired. The cockpit was bathed in green from the blinding ray. Mauvana squinted.

                They were going right over the top of the battleship now. Yly pressed a button, and retracted the wings. They started to go faster, faster. Mauvana could see on the radar that a couple red dots were following them; now they were falling behind, and they fell off the screen entirely.

                “Okay.” Yly was pressing buttons in a frenzy now. “Okay okay okay, getting there, getting there- FIJUY, yes. Confirmed. Come on, come on…”

                “What are you doing?”

                “Route is set! Yes! Yes!” Yly pushed the throttle all the way forwards, and suddenly the stars began to blur around them. She sat back, breathing like she’d just run a marathon. “Yes. We did it. We did it!”

                Mauvana sat up. “We did it?”

                “We’re at light speed, they can’t catch us now. We did it, we-“ Yly’s voice cracked. She rubbed her reddening face, and smiled at her. “We really did it. We’re free.”

                Mauvana looked up at the stars streaking across the cockpit. So many stars. So many worlds. She wanted to see it all.

                “Free,” She said, and smiled. “We’re free.”

                It was an entirely new sensation.


	10. Chapter 10

                Light speed. Entire starsystems whizzed past the ship in the blink of an eye. The engine rumbled away, and the ship shook a little underneath their feet. It felt a little unsettling to Mauvana, but Yly didn’t seem to mind.

                “Oh, that? That’s normal. It’s actually pretty good for a small ship. Mine used to shake so much you’d feel it in your teeth – now that took some getting used to!”

                So it was safe, but still, it was odd. Mauvana paced around the cockpit a couple times, and then opened the door and poked her head into the cabin.

                It looked… disheveled, to say the least. All the quick turns and dodges had done a number on the decorations; most of them were in pieces on the ground - again, kind of like Jargon’s office, only now after he got arrested. Jargon’s daughter had fallen out of the wheelchair and was lying spread-eagled beneath a table. Mauvana gave her a quick probe… no, she wasn’t hurt.

                A couple papers were scattered about the cabin. They must have come down from one of the shelves, because Mauvana hadn’t seen them before.

                She reached down, and picked one up. Turned it over. Her eyes widened, and the floor seemed to fall out from under her feet.

                “Yly?”

                “What? What is it?”

                “You have to see this!”

                “What is it? What’s wrong?”

                Mauvana charged into the cockpit. Yly was standing, ready for action, and looked surprised when she unfurled a piece of paper and shoved it in her face.

                “It’s my old posters!”

                “Your old- what?” She took the poster. It depicted a fist smashing down on a fairly stereotypical drawing of a hook-nosed witch, with the words, ‘KNOW YOUR ENEMIES. ENLIST’ running across the bottom. Her mouth twisted into something like a smile. “Oh, that’s… you drew this?”

                “Yeah! I drew all the posters! Or maybe there were other people. I never saw anybody else, though, so I think it was just me.” She beamed at Yly. “What do you think?”

                “Oh, yeah. It looks interesting. Very, um, colourful.”

                Mauvana frowned. “You’re uncomfortable with something.”

                “It’s – it’s fine.” She handed back the poster. “You’re a real good artist, Mauvana, but, uh, did you ever draw anything not UL-related?”

                “I don’t think so? None that I remember – Jargon didn’t like me wasting paper.”

                “Ah. Well, don’t worry about it.” Yly turned back to the controls. “It was good. It was good.”

                Mauvana stared at her, and then at the poster in her hands. The ground shook under her feet, and she stepped back into the cabin. She sat down on one of the benches, and put her poster on the table in front of it.

                Huh. It was like she had a desk. She straightened, steepled her fingers on the table, and tried for a very serious expression.

                “Have it on my desk by five.” She said, imitating Jargon’s deep voice.

                “What was that?”

“Oh, nothing!”

                “Alright, ya weirdo.”

                Mauvana giggled, and looked down at her poster. She pinched it by the edge, and turned it over. A new, blank page. She reached under the table, and picked up a pen.

                A pen. She grasped it with her right hand, and tried to move her thumb to the clicker. Her new thumb just twitched, and she frowned. She pressed the clicker with her left, and it went click.

                Click click. Click click. Heh. Fun sound.

                She jerked her new hand down to the new page, and she looked around the room. Her eyes settled on Jargon’s daughter, her crumpled suit, her legs smoshed up against the wall. She looked funny.

                Mauvana smiled. Then she looked down again, and started to draw.

 

* * *

 

                “Ughhh…”

                The sound of a groan. Mauvana watched as Jargon’s daughter began to stir. She stretched her legs, and then rolled to the side, her hand coming up to rub her head.

                “What… what happened?”

                Mauvana made a face at her drawing. Well, that was the end of that.

                “Where am I?” Jargon’s daughter sat up, her eyes widening as she took in her surroundings. Then she noticed Mauvana, and they set into a hard frown. “You. What did you do?”

                Mauvana shrugged.

                “What did you do to me! There was a flash and then- wait a minute. Where are we? Where did you take me?”

                She stared at Jargon’s daughter for a long moment, and then she leaned away. “Hey, Yly!” She called. “The hostage is awake!”

                “Hostage?!”

                “Cool!” Said Yly. “You need any help?”

                “No, I’m good. Just letting you know.” She turned back to Jargon’s daughter, and smiled. “That’s Yly. She’s the best pilot ever.”

                “You’re making me blush, Mauvana!”

                Jargon’s daughter rose on shaky knees. She stabbed a finger at her. “I demand to know what’s going on! Why have you taken me hostage? How do you have my father’s ship? Do you have any idea how serious this is? You’re going to get us all killed when the authorities find us!”

                “Eh.” Mauvana shrugged. “I think we’re fine. Yly said we passed out of the UL’s territory two hours ago.”

                She blanched. “Tw-two hours?! Wait, we’ve already left?“

                “Yep! We’re pirates now!”

                “But there’s no way- the blockade-!”

                “We dodged it. Like I said, best pilot ever!”

“ B-but that means we can’t get back now. They’re not gonna let me back in, I can’t… ” Jargon’s daughter clenched her fists. “I can’t go back. What have you done? _What have you done_!”

                Her face reddened, and she launched herself at Mauvana. Mauvana raised a hand – she was halted mid-lunge, but still reached out and grabbed for Mauvana’s throat like she wanted to tear her to pieces.

                “You little plasma-brained railsnipe! How dare you! You ruined _everything_! Do you even understand the magnitude of what you’ve done? None of us can ever go back to the UL – we’re as good as outcasts!”

                Mauvana shrugged. “That’s fine by me.”

                “You-! How could you do this to me? I tried to help you! I saved your little friend! Wh- why are you laughing? This isn’t funny!”

                It was funny. Mauvana couldn’t hold it in anymore.

                “Stop it! Stop it now!”

                “But it is so funny!” She wiped her face. “You think I’m grateful to you? I’m not. You think I wanted to hurt you? You think I wanted to do this to you, specifically?”

                Mauvana’s laughter trailed off. She looked up, and she smiled when she could see fear flicker across Jargon’s daughter’s aura. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

                Jargon’s daughter just stared at her as she continued.

                “I can see you, Helfena Jargon. I can see everything that you are. I can see how hard you’ve worked to get where you are – oh, I’m sorry, _were_.” She barked a laugh. “I can see every head you’ve stepped on to get so high, and yet, you never could step out of his shadow, could you? Dad’s still everywhere you look.”

                Helfena shot glances around the ship, at the pictures of Jargon and his family lying shattered on the floor. Mauvana kept speaking.

                “I’ve seen all of this. I look at you, and I can see every flicker of your thought, every crack of your insecurity. Every hope. Every fear.” She leaned forwards. “I can see you mean harm. You wanted to throw me in prison and lock away the key to protect your reputation.”

                “I-“

                “’-had no choice! You were in the wrong place at the wrong time! It wasn’t personal!’ Oh, I know what you tell yourself at night. And I don’t care. I was in the hospital for three months, Helfena Jargon, and every day I thought about what I was going to do to you. I’m not one for planning usually, but when you’ve got nothing to do, you find ways to pass the time, you know?”

                Helfena was trembling – both in her aura and all over her body. “Wh-what are you going to do to me?”

                She just stared. Was it Helfena’s imagination, or could she feel a slight pressure building inside her skull?

                “Mauvana?” She shook her head. “Mauvana, no, please…”

                Mauvana looked down, and the pressure vanished. Then held up her paper. “How does this look?”

                “Wha- what?”

                “My drawing. Is it good?” Her smile stretched. “Be honest.”

                Helfena blinked. “Um, it’s-”

                “It’s a picture of you, on the floor, being pathetic. It’s not very good, is it.”

                “What-“

                “I mean, I’ve done better.” She flipped the page around to the poster. “I mean, look at what I did when I was working for Jargon! That looks good, but then, you know, my hand got shot off when you arrested me and here I am. But hey, baby steps, right?”

                “Mauvana, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-“

                “I should try and draw something else.” She pointed at another piece of paper on the floor. “Hand me that, will you?”

                Helfena rushed over to grab it and put it on her desk.

                “Thaaanks. Hey, do you see a pencil anywhere?”

                “Uhh, uhh-“

                “No, I didn’t either. That’s a right pickle. Oh, well.”

                Mauvana looked down, and put pen to paper. She sketched out a wonky circle. Then she looked up at Helfena, wide eyed, hair frazzled, cheeks reddened in a way that reminded her so much of Jargon. She nodded, once, and then looked down at her page again. Tried to add those details, with her twitchy new fingers that were slowly learning to do what she wanted them to.

                With Helfena standing stock still, not daring to move, barely daring to breathe, she taught them.

 

* * *

 

                A jolt. Mauvana was jerked to the side as the ship shuddered, her pen dragging a trail across the page. Helfena yelped and caught a chair to steady herself.

                “Aww,” Mauvana said, and tried to rub at the mark. “And no eraser. That’s a right pickle.”

                “Hey, Mauvana!” A shout from the cockpit. “Come’ere! Look at this!”

                She got up and headed on over. In the cockpit, Yly was standing right up to the window; she noticed Mauvana and jabbed a finger outside.

                “Look! We’re here! There it is!”

                A glowing white sun was the first thing to draw her attention. It looked kind of small… but maybe it was very far away. There was a patch of pure black against the sea of stars; she noticed that, and then she realised it was a planet. They were approaching it from its shadowy side, but she could just about see a sliver of dark purple around the edge. Several moons orbited it, and as they got closer Mauvana spotted one that was dusky red, with ice on its poles and a number of little ships flitting around it like ants.

                “Is that…?”

                “JEVERIS.” Yly spoke with a strange softness. “I can’t believe it. I-I’m really here. I’m home.”

                She sniffed and she rubbed her eyes; she glanced at Mauvana and turned away with a little laugh. “Heh, sorry. Getting kind of emotional… just, all that time I told myself I was gonna come back, I-I was gonna make it, and I’m here. I’m here, a-and…”

                She trailed off and covered her mouth. A noise escaped between her fingers. Mauvana stared at her, and then she reached forwards and put a hand on her shoulder.

                Yly hesitated. Then, abruptly, she stepped forwards and threw her arms around Mauvana, squeezing so tight she could hardly breathe. And yet, it was a good feeling – comforting, not constricting. She squeezed right back, her own tears, her own emotions mixing together with hers in a confusing, terrifying, wonderful mess.

                An entirely new sensation. She didn’t let go until there was a beeping on the monitor; Yly pulled back, wiping her blotchy face.

                “Heh… c-c-comms call.” Her voice quavered, but her smile was wide. “Got-ta t-take th-is.”

                She stepped away. Mauvana watched her sit down, clear her throat, and talk quietly into the screen that popped up. It was quiet now, but for the ever-present rumble of the engine.

                Mauvana turned back to the window, and watched as they approached. The red moon was the size her fist; slowly, it grew until its cratered surface blocked out the stars behind it. Now she could make out a space station in orbit around JEVERIS, with blinking lights at the end of its docks and a warm glow coming from within its building.

                It looked busy, she thought. Lots of ships were moored to those decks, and as she got closer she could see little figures in white clothes. Closer still, and she could feel their auras brushing up against her mind.

                She took a breath. Clenched her hands. Her hands.

                “You okay there, Mauvana?”

                “Huh?” She looked back at Yly. “I’m okay. There’s a lot of people here. A lot of thoughts.”

                Understanding flickered across her aura. “Ah, right. I didn’t think of that.” She tapped a finger against the monitor. “Alright, if I dock at the end of the station, and you stay on the ship while I-“

                “No. It’s okay.”

                “You sure?”

                “I’m sure. I want to come with you and see your family.” She made a face. “If that’s not too much trouble.”

                “Of course not!” There was a sound from the cabin, and Yly glanced back. “Oh, nearly forgot about her. Uh, we should probably figure out what to do with her.”

                “I had something in mind.”

                “Yeah? What is it?”

                Mauvana leaned in close, and whispered something.

                “Huh. Oh, no, I don’t want it. I was gonna scrap it after we got done here.” Yly raised an eyebrow. “Really? Just gonna, you know, hand it off to her? …Alright. If that’s what you wanna do. Let me just dock this real quick.”

                A flashing light guided them into a space between two smaller ships. The engines idling, Yly engaged the quantum lock and then shut them off. The floor stopped shaking under Mauvana’s feet; huh, she’d gotten used to that.

                “Alright,” Yly stood, clapping her on the back. “Let’s do this.”

                They walked into the cabin. Helfena was standing on one of the benches, straining to look out of the narrow windows. She froze when she heard them come in, fear flaring in her aura.

                Yly waved. “Good view, isn’t it?”

                “Where are we?” She asked. “Where are you going?”

                “Home sweet home, that’s where we’re going. Question is, where are you gonna go?”

                “Huh?”

                Mauvana gestured at the ship. “You can have this. We don’t want it.”

                “What?” Helfena frowned. “What do you mean?”

                “We don’t want it, and we don’t want you. So I figured I’d just give it away.” She smiled with her teeth. “It is yours, after all. Well, technically it’d be Jargon’s, but you don’t mind, right?”

                They walked to the back of the ship. A number of space skins hung by the airlocks; Yly picked one off a hook and handed it to her. She felt the fabric – kind of rubbery. Weird.

                “Wait!” Helfena started forwards. “Where am I supposed to go?”

                “Where do you want to go?”

                “Wha- I can’t go back to the UL, the blockade-“

                “Then go somewhere else.”

                “But… but… where?”

                “I dunno.” Mauvana shrugged. “Anywhere you want, I guess. Just make sure we don’t meet again, okay? I really don’t like you.”

                Helfena backed away, and for once, she looked truly lost. There was a terrible fear building in her aura, and it wasn’t for Mauvana.

                “Anyway,” She said, slipping her hands into the space skin and wiggling her fingers. “I’m gonna go now. Bye forever.”

                Yly handed her something heavy. “Not without your helmet, you’re not.”

                “Oh.” Mauvana put it on. “Okay. Now, bye forever.”

                They walked into the airlock, leaving her alone. The air started to vent, and Yly tapped her shoulder.

                “Alright, you ever done a spacewalk before?”

                “No.”

                “Figured. It’s gonna feel weird. Just-“

                Mauvana suddenly felt her weight fall away. She let out a little gasp, and then a giggle as she started to float off the floor. “Whoa! I’m flying!”

                “Heh. It’s pretty cool, isn’t it?” The airlock opened, and Yly stepped forwards. “Just hang on to me. It’s not half as fun when you’re floating off into space, trust me.”

                She reached over and grasped Yly’s arm. Yly reached out and grabbed the railing of the dock, pulling the two of them onto the station. Mauvana breathed as they passed between the gap – stars and darkness, she saw. You really could just float off into space. She gripped Yly a little tighter.

                It was silent here, truly silent. All the ambient sounds Mauvana didn’t even notice had been muted, and now she could almost hear the blood rushing by her ears. Yly slid her hand along the rails, but Mauvana heard nothing. She looked forwards, and she spotted several airlocks at the base of the station’s buildings.

                She pointed at them. Yly followed her finger, and then looked back and gave the thumbs up. They kept going.

                There were auras here, scattered around the station and clumped in the docked ships. Mauvana squinted a bit; they were starting to get in her head. She only felt more inside the station, thoughts seeping into her mind, washing away her own.

                She squeezed Yly’s arm. She did that.

                Or was she itching her nose? She – who was she?

                Airlock doors. She placed a tentacle on the scanners; they lit up green. Let her through.

                An ocean. An ocean of thoughts, and she was swept away.

                Selling real organic lizard – gotta remember to pay this cycle’s rent- stupid sore thoat! Get tips. She has a song stuck in her head – _Sail across the stars, oh baby it’s all ours-_

                “Hey, Mauvana,” She said to a lady. “You wanna take the helmet off?”

                Guess I’ll do it for her. Hey, that asshole shoved her! Why doesn’t anybody ever want fresh lizard? Ugh, this is itchy. She’s sad. She’s laughing now. Asteroid belt in REJOR’s nearly out, gotta find a new supplier…

                Squeezing a hand. Her hand? What’s-

                _And we’ll never be alone aga-a-aiiin_ , _oh!_

                Who’s that? She looks familiar.

                Her feet hurt. Are you serious? Now you’re going to tell me you don’t want the space cream? She’s crying – nooooo, mommy, I don’t want it! I don’t wanit I don’t want it I don’t want it-

                “Hey, hey. We’re nearly there.”

                Ugh, people just can’t control their kids these days. And what’s up with that old lady? Man, she looks so familiar- no way. Is that…?

                Holy shit. Holy shit, that’s her. That’s _her_.

                She cut herself on a laser earlier, and that was basically how her day was going. An earthquake in the UL – that made her stomach turn. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, and she knows the looks she gets when she brings it up, so she just doesn’t. She just sits there and her finger hurts and-

                “Viana!” Holy shit, that’s her! THAT’S HER! “Viana! Viana!”

                That voice… she looks up. That face - her blood chills. No. Way.

                She pushes through the crowd, hand gripping Mauvana’s so tight she might break her fingers. “Viana, it’s me! Viana!”

                “Yly? _Yly_!”

                She runs to Yly. She runs to Viana. She can’t think, she can’t breathe from the shock – after all this time, it’s really her! She touches, and she kisses, she _kisses_ , and her heart pounds so fast in her chest she might just pass out from the shock. Maybe it’s a dream. She grabs shoulders, she squeezes harder and harder until she knows it’s real, _it’s real_ , and nothing in the world is ever going to break the two of her apart again.

                She’s so happy. She’s so damn happy.


End file.
